


beauty killer

by starkhasheart



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, DFAB reader, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Interchangeable Robot Genitalia, Makeup, Other, Rated M for Mettaton, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Robot Kink, Robot Sex, Smut, Soul Sex, im screaming, now rated E for mettaton, there will probably be others as this goes on but right now i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkhasheart/pseuds/starkhasheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your knack for art and cosmetics somehow lands you the job of being Mettaton's makeup artist. </p><p>Surprisingly, you enjoy it.</p><p> </p><p>(was originally titled smear my eyeliner)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beauty killer

**Author's Note:**

> LOL I'M SHIT AT SUMMARIES
> 
> i'm sorry im doing this this has just been in my head for so long
> 
> the reader is dfab/presents femininely (if that makes sense) but uses gender neutral pronouns! (this is totally not a self insert haha...what do you mean...)
> 
> i hope that whoever reads this likes it! im going to go to robot hell now

No one really knew it (since you didn’t actually look the type nor did you blatantly state it otherwise) but you did know your way around a makeup brush and could get yourself (or someone else) all dolled up if need be. It wasn’t exactly surprising, since you did see yourself as an artist, and makeup was a form of art—just a different medium and a 3D canvas.

You didn’t have a need to paint your face and look presentable at all, since you rarely left your house—well, the lab. Alphys’s lab, to be precise. She so often commissioned you to draw up some schematics for experiments or designs for a new poster advertising Mettaton’s latest showcase, so she offered to let you stay with her in her lab in Hotland. You were glad, since taking trips to and from the surface everyday would be exhausting and annoying. And since Hotland’s brutal heat made your sweat glands go into overdrive your makeup would be pouring off your face in no time.

Your prowess in the field of cosmetics was revealed when Alphys told you that Undyne had asked her out on a date. Immediately you squealed and pulled her into a tight hug. You didn’t know why you were so excited; you weren’t the one going out on a date. You just got easily excited when something nice happened with your friends.

“I-I just don’t know what to do,” Alphys said, the stammer in her voice more evident. Anxiety rolled off of the yellow monster in waves. “I d-don’t know what to wear, how to d-do makeup—”

You felt the need to remind Alphys that Undyne wasn’t exactly one to care about appearances, but at the work ‘makeup’ you perked up, grinning. “I could do your makeup. And don’t you have that cute sparkly dress you wore on your ‘date’ with Frisk?”

“Y-Yeah, I g-guess so,” Alphys stuttered, wringing her hands together. Her scaly face was pinched in concern. “But I’ve worn it so many t-times, I just want to look nice for Undyne…”

“Alphys.” Your tone was firm yet you kept your voice gentle. You didn’t want to make Alphys more nervous than she already was. “Being honest, I don’t think Undyne would care what you look like. All she would care about is you, y’know, being you and being there. But I think she’d appreciate that you wanna look nice for her.”

Alphys’s cheeks flooded with pink. “R-Really? You think so?”

You nodded. “I know so. So do you want me to do your makeup or not?”

 

Date time with Undyne had rolled around, and you had to say that Alphys looked stunning. You had always loved her cute sparkly black dress, so you decided to add some shimmer to her makeup. It wasn’t very much makeup, since you didn’t have concealer or foundation the color of lemons, so you compensated by doing her eye makeup and tapping a hint of blush to her cheeks. You had done a usual cat-eye for her, to start off. It wasn’t dramatic or smoky; the eyeshadow was shades of shimmery violet and the eyeliner was a dark purple. You applied mascara to the eyelashes Alphys had, figuring you didn’t need to apply falsies. You didn’t think Alphys would care for them, anyway.

“Whoa!” the scientist exclaimed when you handed her a mirror. “This is a-amazing! I didn’t know you could do something like this.” She fluttered her eyelashes and grinned widely, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve seen her so happy.

“That should be Undyne,” you said with a small smile upon hearing a door to the lab slam open. Undyne always loved making loud entrances.

“Alphys!” Undyne’s voice rang through the lab as she approached. You could see she was dressed casually, in a black tank top and leggings with her boots. Her fiery red hair was tugged up into a high ponytail and you didn’t question why she had a spear in her grip. “It’s date time!” She suddenly halted in front of you both, and her visible eye widened, jaw slackened.

“H-Hi, Undyne!” Alphys squeaked, and you wondered if applying blush to Alphys’s cheeks was redundant. “So what do y-you think?”

“What do I _think?_ ” Suddenly you were a tad worried about how Undyne would react. You loved her to death but sometimes she could be very spontaneous. Most of the time it was okay, but sometimes it could be very bad.

“I think you’re freakin’ _bangin’_!” she exclaimed, and you stifled a giggle as she rushed towards Alphys and actually pulled her into her arms, bridal style. Alphys squawked and yeah, the blush was definitely unnecessary, since Alphys’s face was doing most of the work. Undyne turned to you, her face split into a sharp-toothed grin. “Human! Did you do this?”

“Y-Yeah!” you stammered. Relief rushed through your veins. “I’m glad you both like how it turned out. My hand is kind of shaky so I was afraid it wouldn’t be as clean as it is…”

“Well, I think it’s friggin’ _awesome_.” Undyne cast her eyes down to the monster in her arms, who appeared to be slightly faint. You hoped Alphys’s sweat wouldn’t smear the makeup you worked so hard to perfect. “You ready, babe?”

The pet name seemed to send Alphys to the moon. “Y-Yeah! Uhm…wait hold on.” She turned to you. “Hey, uhm, since I know you’re really good at makeup and stuff…how about I give you another job?”

“Depends on what it is, boss,” you replied, twirling your tablet pen between your fingers.

“W-Well, you know Mettaton, right? Uh, well, of course you know Mettaton, everyone knows Mettaton, but…” She cleared her throat. “Uh—I think he’s in need of a new makeup artist, so why don’t you see if he’ll hire you? I’m sure you w-would totally get the job.”

You stopped twirling your tablet pen. “…he wears makeup?”

“Y-Yeah, I know it’s…weird. I’ll talk to you more about it when I get back”— _If you come back_ , you thought to yourself—“so just, think about it for now, okay? I’m sure Mettaton would adore you.”

You exchanged your goodbyes and Alphys and Undyne were off on their date, and you wondered where they were even going. If they were going to watch some anime they usually did that in the lab. You shrugged mentally. Whatever they did, you hoped they had a good time and that the expensive eye primer you bought did its job and was worth the thirty dollars to put down for it.

Your thoughts on makeup quickly moved to Alphys’s offer, and to Mettaton himself. Surprisingly, you had never actually _met_ Mettaton in the flesh (metal?) before. When you were designing posters for his new shows you’d send the designs to Alphys and she’d clear them with Mettaton before sending them back to you for any changes. You guessed it was because the robot was busy—being the only star in the underground and a rising star on the surface left one with little-to-no free time.

To be honest, you weren’t so sure about your opinion of him. On screen he was charismatic and charming and sparkly but only god knew what he was like behind the scenes. You felt like he’d be more of a drama queen than anything, yelling at an intern for getting him decaf coffee instead of regular. As if he even _drank_ coffee. You chuckled to yourself at the image, opening a new file in Photoshop and doodling nonsense on it.

You decided it was going to be awhile before Alphys came back so you popped your ear buds in and cranked up your music, opening up another file in Photoshop of a personal project you had been working on. With your work you felt as if you never had free time to just draw whatever you wanted, and you were so _giddy_ that you had time to do as you pleased.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. When you were absorbed in your work you often would forget to look at the clock, or get up, or eat, or use the bathroom—basically a lot of things. The only thing that snapped you out of your trance was the feeling that someone was in the lab. You figured it was Alphys, since the clock told you she and Undyne left for their date four hours ago. Eager for the details, you tugged your ear buds out of your ears and stood up, and that’s when a wave of vertigo crashed into you. Sitting for hours on end and suddenly standing up quickly never agreed with you. You swayed to-and-fro before your body decided it would be better if you landed flat on your face. You grimaced, bracing yourself for the impact.

But there wasn’t one.

What there was, was a pair of metallic arms wrapped around you, preventing you from face-planting right onto the linoleum of the lab. Your eyes struggled to focus and you narrowed them, not remembering Alphys ever having long, metal arms, and ever being taller than you. Very taller than you.

“Oh my, are you all right, darling?”

_Darling?_

Slowly, your neck craned upwards to face whatever was holding you upright, and your heart leaped into your throat.

Like you had said, you had never seen Mettaton in real life. You had only seen him on TV and posters and such. You guessed the TV that was in your room in the lab was extremely low-definition because it obviously never captured how breathtakingly beautiful the robot was. You cursed the heat flooding your face, and found yourself rendered speechless.

Did the pixelated pupil in his only visible eye turn into a goddamn 8-bit _heart?_

No. You had to be seeing things.

“Hello?” His tone seemed rather amused. “Are you all right, dear? I came by to see Alphys, but I assume she’s not here.”

You finally remembered you have the gift of language and decided to use it. Rather ungraciously, but you knew he’d sort of understand you.

“Ah, uh, y-yeah! She’s not here, she, um, is on a—a date! With her gillfriend— _girlfriend!_ I meant girlfriend.” You felt like Sans would congratulate you on the pun you didn’t intend to make.

Mettaton pursed his lips. How did he have lips? He was a robot! Then a sound unfamiliar to you began to crackle out of the speaker on his pink chest, and your mind whirred. Had you offended him? Did he have anything against humans? You assumed he didn’t since he loved when both humans and monsters alike showered him affection, but then again, he was an _actor_ , and the one thing actors were good at is _acting_. It could all just be an act and Mettaton could despise humans with all of his soul—

The crackling in his speaker morphed into laughter.

Mettaton’s shoulders shook as he giggled, covering his mouth with a gloved hand, even though the sound came through his speaker. It was such genuine laughter that for a moment you almost forgot he was laughing at you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling, I’m not laughing at _you_.” _He can read minds, too?_ “I’m just laughing at the pun. I don’t normally find them funny—in fact I find them rather irritating—but I thought that one was very cute.”

 _Please, God_ , you thought to yourself, watching Mettaton erupt into another fit of giggles. _Just do it. Strike me down right here. Please don’t do this to me. He’s a robot. I can’t do this._

“Mettaton?”

Realizing the voice wasn’t yours, you snapped out of your train of thought and realized Alphys had returned. She scurried through the lab as quickly has her short legs would allow, her claws tapping rhythmically on the linoleum beneath her feet. Remarkably, her makeup was still all intact, and you mentally patted yourself on the back for a job well done.

“Alphys, darling!” Laughter still tinged Mettaton’s words as he turned on his heels (literally, on the heels of the pink boots that you assumed were built onto his legs) to face Alphys. Your mouth felt very dry all of a sudden.

“Oh, my stars! You look absolutely _ravishing_ , darling!” Mettaton seemed genuinely ecstatic and rushed over to greet the scientist. You were surprised to see him lean down and pull her into a hug. You guessed since Alphys literally created Mettaton they would be very close. You remembered when you first came to the underground and started working for Alphys, she told you that at one time she and Mettaton had become distant, yet they became closer than ever since the barrier was broken.

“Thank you, M-Mettaton,” Alphys replied, voice shaking. She was smiling. “So many people complemented my makeup tonight!”

“Did you do it yourself, sweetheart?”

“N-Nope!” Alphys pointed her claw at you.

You felt Mettaton’s fuchsia eye fall on you and you suddenly felt very hot. Oh, his pupil definitely did _not_ morph into a pixelated heart again.

“Oh, _darling_.” He sounded like he was purring. What the fuck. “Did you do Alphys’s makeup? Because it looks divine.”

If you had asthma you’d probably have to take a hit off your inhaler at the moment. “Y-Yeah, I did! Thank you…Mettaton.”

At the sound of his name he seemed to come to his senses about something. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry! I completely forgot to ask for your name.”

“Oh, uh, it’s fine!” You shakily introduced yourself, wringing your hands together. “I help Alphys draw up diagrams for experiments and I—uh, I draw up the designs for your posters. We’ve never actually met in person before.”

Mettaton’s heart-shaped pupil seemed to grow larger. You felt like you were in some cheesy anime that Alphys would totally be into, and you were the unfortunate protagonist.

The robot practically skipped over to you, taking your hand in his. Warmth seeped into your skin and you jolted in surprise. You didn’t expect something crafted out of metal to be so warm.

“I apologize for not being able to greet you in person, darling.” Man, he _really_ loved throwing pet names around. “I tend to get so caught up in my work that I have a tendency to to lose focus on things. I’m so glad to meet you.” Mettaton flashed you a bright smile and you saw a sharpened canine pressing against black-painted lips. God, Alphys really went all-out in making him anime as hell.

“Mettaton!” Alphys said, and you remembered she was still there. “D-Don’t you think that they did such a lovely job on my makeup? I bet they would make such an a-amazing makeup artist!”

Good thing Mettaton turned away, because right as the words left Alphys’s mouth your eyes widened and your expression morphed into that of someone who had just gotten told some very bad news. You raised your free hand and began to make swiping motions at your neck, telling Alphys to _cut it out_. She pursed her lips, swallowing.

“Oh, Alphys, darling, you’re absolutely right,” the robot said, and he sounded a bit disappointed he didn’t come up with the idea himself. He turned his attention back to you and you stiffened, hand dropping down to your side. He was cradling your other hand against his chest. He was so _warm_. “Let me elaborate: my previous makeup artist and I had a sort of…disagreement, if you will. And she left. So now I’m without a trustworthy person to make my already flawless face into absolute _perfection._ ” You stifled a giggle at Mettaton’s narcissism, which thankfully he didn’t catch.

“But, of course, it is up to you, after all.” Mettaton dropped your hand and you felt a chill creep up your arm. “I completely understand if you decline.”

Even though there were only two other people in the room you felt as if the whole world had cast its eyes on you. You swallowed the lump forming in the back of your throat, cracking a nervous smile.

“Uh…s-sure! I can do that. Be your makeup artist, I mean.” Oh no.

“Oh, _yes!_ ” Mettaton practically cheered. You froze in shock when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your cheek for a chaste kiss. “You’ll start Monday. I’ll call you before then. Thank you so, so much, honey!”

He bounded towards Alphys and pressed a kiss to the top of her head as a sign of parting and struck a dramatic pose before he exited the lab, leaving you standing there with shaking hands, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into.


	2. celebrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know SHIT about sign language so if i wrote something fucked up just yell at me
> 
> also i'm thinking of changing the title of this to beauty killer??? yes???? no?????? maybe?????????????
> 
> if you want to see more Quality Content, feel free to follow me on Tumblr Dot Com: patragems.tumblr.com

Sunday eventually rolled around, and the day you started as Mettaton’s makeup artist grew closer. After your encounter with the glambot, Alphys had apologized to you profusely, and you just brushed it off, saying, “It’s fine, man. I probably would have taken the job anyway.”

“B-But still,” Alphys pressed. “I-I shouldn’t have just, uh, spoken for you. Kind of.”

“It’s no big deal,” you said. Your back was to her, as you were focused on your computer screen, working on another project in Photoshop. “I’m just surprised he hired me so quickly—without even an interview.” You chewed on your bottom lip. That was the part that worried you the most. He didn’t even know if you were qualified or not to be his makeup artist. You certainly weren’t a registered cosmetologist.

“He does that, sometimes.” Alphys tapped her claws together. “B-But he really seemed to like you! I heard that he and his previous makeup artist didn’t really get along w-well, actually.”

You stopped drawing. “Why’s that?”

You could tell Alphys shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. But I’m p-positive you two will get along swimmingly.”

You pursed your lips. You hoped she was right.

You decided to turn the topic to something different. You twirled around in your chair and crossed your legs. “So…how did your date go the other day?”

Alphys immediately became flustered, swallowing. “It w-was f-fun! Ah ha…s-speaking of the date, Undyne is coming back here to visit today.”

“Oh?” Your voice raised in pitch.

“Y-Yeah! And she’s, um. Bringing some friends!”

A pause. “Friends?”

If Alphys had a vibrate function installed in her body it would have been on high at the moment. “Yeah! I k-kinda told her that—you got hired as Mettaton’s new makeup artist! And she got really pumped up and excited for y-you and told Papyrus…and Papyrus told Sans…and Sans told Frisk…and Frisk told Toriel and Asriel…s-so they’re all coming later to celebrate your new j-job!”

You tried to surprise the twitching of your eye. So many thoughts were rushing through your head at the moment that you couldn’t make sense of it all. Instead of screaming out loud and internally, you forced a smile and replied, “Oh, really? That’s nice of you all!”

Alphys froze. Worry lined her face and she gulped. “Well, that’s certainly a different response than I expected. I know you’re n-not big on parties, and I should have cleared it with you first, so I’m s-sorry about that.”

You sighed. “It’s fine, Alphys. I’m sure it’ll be fun! I haven’t seen the gang in a while, so it’ll be nice to catch up with them.” You flashed a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

 

Undyne rolled around eventually, and with her she brought Papyrus, and with Papyrus he brought Sans. And of course, Sans brought Toriel, and tagging along with Toriel was Frisk and Asriel. Frisk immediately detached from Toriel’s side once they saw you, bounding towards you as you bent down to scoop them up in your arms. You giggled, spinning them around before pressing a kiss to their nose. “Heya, Frisk! Haven’t seen you in a while, I’ve missed you!”

Frisk giggled, scrunching their nose at your kiss. They raised their hands and signed, _I missed you more! How have you been?_

You were extremely proud of yourself for understanding everything the child signed. When you first came to the Underground you hadn’t known anything about sign language, yet your desire to communicate smoothly with Frisk made you want to learn. You weren’t good at signing yourself, but you weren’t bad at understanding it.

“I’ve been good, kiddo,” you replied, setting them back on the ground right as Asriel nervously approached you. You gave him a small smile and he returned the action. Asriel had always been tense around you. You weren’t positive why, and it had made you gloomy, but Frisk had told you that Asriel liked you and that he was just shy. “Hi, Asriel.”

“H-Hi,” he said, his voice small. You noted the plastic bag in his hand (paw?). “Mom made you a butterscotch pie.”

A big grin split your face in two. “Really? Wow, that was nice of her. Thanks, Toriel!”

“Not a problem, my child.” Toriel laughed softly. “I know how much you love it, so I made it to congratulate you on your new job! I believe Papyrus and Undyne have cooked up something for you as well…”

Curious, you made your way over to where Undyne and Papyrus were chatting with Alphys. You saw Papyrus holding a glass container in his hands. You could only imagine how much spaghetti could be piled into the basin.

“Human!” Papyrus crowed, lifting up the container into the air. “Undyne has informed me of your new job working with the great Mettaton! When I got over my immediate jealousy and spite, I decided I should make a celebratory dish to congratulate you on your new job!”

You giggled at the envy lacing Papyrus’s tone, eyeing the tray in his hands. “So what did you make for me, Pap?”

“What I always make!” Papyrus lifted the foil away from the container to reveal what was inside. “Spaghetti! This time, in cake form!” The taller skeleton handed the dish off to you so he could pound his fist proudly against his battle-body. “I believe you humans call it _lasagna!_ ”

Sure enough, you looked down to see the tray filled with cheesy lasagna, and you suppose he did have a point about it just being spaghetti in cake form. You snickered and thanked him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheekbone, which became tinged with an orange blush.

The little celebration began, and it was nice to be able to catch up with your friends after not seeing them for a while. You dished up the lasagna and it wasn’t half bad, but you were just excited for a piece of Toriel’s pie.

An hour or so passed and soon you got a headache from laughing at Sans’s lame robot puns, so you excused yourself to your room. You had made it down the hallway and was about to open your door when you felt something tug at your pants leg. A bit startled, you turned around.

“Oh. Heya, Frisk.” You were surprised they followed you. “What’s up?”

_Are you all right?_ they signed, concern etching itself on their face.

Your brows furrowed. “Of course I am. I just have a headache, is all. Why do you ask?”

_Oh. I was just wondering_. They pursed their lips. _Aren’t you excited for your new job?_

You pondered why Frisk was asking you all of these questions. “Of course I am. It’ll be a nice change of pace.” Your voice cracked, and you cursed yourself. Frisk raised a knowing brow, and you knew they were on to you.

_You don’t sound very excited. Are you nervous?_ A pause. _Is it because of MTT?_

“W-Well, I mean, of course I’m nervous. Everyone gets nervous before they start a new job, right?” You scratched your arm, kneading your bottom lip with your teeth. “And…yeah, I guess it’s mostly because of Mettaton. I had never met him until a few days ago and suddenly I’m in charge of making his ‘already flawless face into absolute _perfection.’”_ You struck a dramatic pose as you mocked Mettaton’s voice, and Frisk snickered, covering their mouth with a petite hand.

“And that’s a really tall order, y’know? He didn’t even interview me so he doesn’t even know if I’m qualified for the position. Hell, even _I_ don’t know if I’m qualified for the position!” You apologized for cursing quietly, then continued on. “I didn’t even get a good read of his personality. All I know is when he looked at me the pupil in his eye like…morphed into a heart? Did that happen when you fought him?”

Frisk studied you for a moment, then shrugged. After ruffling their hair they signed up at you _, I don’t think you should worry about MTT too much. He’s full of himself, but after our little heart-to-heart, I don’t think he’s a bad person. Well, robot. And if the heart eyes mean anything then it must means he likes you._

You considered their words, nodding slowly. “I…I guess that’s true. Thanks, Frisk. You’re a cool kid.”

The child flashed a grin up at you. _You’re cooler!_

You snorted, leaning down to ruffle their hair before sending them back into the main room of the lab, where the others were still hanging out. Your headache was beginning to ebb into a dull throb in the back of your skull, so once you got inside your room you popped a few ibuprofens and changed into a ratty, paint-stained tank top and old shorts, throwing your hair up into a messy bun. You cast your eyes over your room, and concluded you needed to do some spring cleaning. Not right now, of course.

You clambered into your bed, cocooning yourself in your blankets. You sighed in content, fishing your phone out of the pile of covers and logging onto the UnderNet. Of course the first dozen or so posts were about Mettaton and his newest shows or movies. There was a photoshoot containing pictures of him in both is EX form and his original, boxy form—the one you secretly dubbed ‘the sexy calculator’. You snickered to yourself, thumbing through your newsfeed.

You felt like hours had passed before your eyes began to droop. You were about to put away your phone and just hit the hay but your text tone jolted you awake. You opened the message to see it was from Sans.

_hey. was gonna say bye to ya but al said you werent feelin so hot so I guess a text will suffice. we left already._

You smiled, continuing to read. Your stomach dropped like a bag of bricks.

_and when we were headin out mettaton was **bolting** towards the lab. think he was lookin for you? he looked pretty **nuts**._

You gritted your teeth at the pun.

Suddenly your phone let out another shrill beep. This time the text was from Alphys.

_Hey uhh MTT’s here and he wants to see you??? I told him you were in your room and he’s heading up_

Your thumbs went right to work.

_Alphys for the love of god I am not presentable please sweet jesus please tell him to come back I’m practically naked_

It was too late. Once you hit send, there was a knock at your door, metal on metal.

The way Mettaton said your name like a note in a song made goosebumps prick your skin. You sunk deeper into your blanket cocoon. Maybe if you were silent he would leave.

“Darling, I know you’re in there.” He let out a metallic chuckle. “I have something I’d like to ask you. Don’t make me pry open this door.”

Why did the sudden change in tone send a thrill down your spine? You scrambled out of your bed, sighing. Who cared if he would make fun of your frazzled appearance? It’s not like you couldn’t take it.

You gently tugged open the door, and instantly you were blinded. Well, metaphorically.

Mettaton was leaning against your doorframe, his arm propping himself up. You expected to see the metal of his limbs but you were instead greeted by a tuxedo and pants that hugged him in _all_ the right places. His hair was styled neatly, but the same curtain of synthetic strands still covered the entire right side of his face. His lips were painted pitch black with a dab of fuchsia in the middle, and you wanted to climb back under your covers and fade out of existence.

“Hi, M-Mettaton.” Your throat was drier than your sense of humor. You felt naked. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“Simple, darling: a date! I simply cannot hire you as my makeup artist if I don’t know a single thing about you.” Mettaton gave you a simple once-over. The pupil in his visible eye morphed into a question mark. “Are you okay, honey? You seem sick.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my face. Uh…” You wrung your hands together anxiously. “Can you wait a bit? I don’t look very presentable right now.”

“Really? I think you look amazing, beautiful.” The question mark turned into a heart.

What the fuck. “Thank you, Mettaton. Uh…you look pretty bangin’ yourself!” Oh, god. You didn’t just say that.

Mettaton just fucking laughed, and you wondered if the pink blush had been on his cheeks beforehand. “Why, thank you, darling! I guess I can give you time if you want to make yourself even more pretty. In the meantime, I will be talking with Alphys.”

To your goddamn surprise and shock, Mettaton reached down and gingerly cradled your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your skin. With his pupil still in the shape of a beating heart, he flashed his pearly whites at you one more time before ghosting down the hall to the main lab, leaving you stunned with your face burning.


	3. the date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title change inspired by a song by jeffree starr called beauty killer which honestly is a mettaton song
> 
> anYway hope you all enjoy this i'm glad this is getting a lot of positive reception :))))
> 
> follow me on tumblr! my url is patragems.tumblr.com

Mettaton was taking you to a sushi restaurant.

If you were being honest, you were excited as hell. You didn’t know what you were more ecstatic about; the fact that a celebrity robot was treating you to dinner or the fact that it was sushi.

Or the fact that said celebrity robot kept referring to it as a date.

You didn’t really have anything fancy to wear, so you settled for a blouse you found after digging through a heap of clothes piled next to your bed. It was clean. At least, you _thought_ it was clean. There were no visible stains and it didn’t smell bad. You sprayed yourself with extra perfume just as a precaution. You also slid into a pair of leggings that clung to your thighs and calves, accentuating the curves of your legs. Since you were going out with the legbot himself you wanted to at least match him somewhat.

“Oh, _sugar_ ,” Mettaton drawled as you tentatively entered the main room of the lab. “You look absolutely divine.”

You noticed his eyes were trained on your legs. You tried not to notice the stupid heart in the middle of his iris. “Thank you, Mettaton. It’s not much since I don’t really go out.”

“Well, honey, I guess it’s up to me to change that.” He winked at you and you felt like you were in a sauna.

“Well, Alphys, we must be off,” Mettaton said, tone singsong as he linked his arm with yours. You could hear something within him whirring, much louder than normal. Maybe there was something wrong with his internal cooling system.

“Have f-fun, you two.” Alphys seemed at a loss for words. “Be s-safe.”

You swore you heard Mettaton murmur, “No need for that” under his breath. Your mind raced, wondering what he meant by that. You pushed the thoughts aside. You didn’t need to overthink anything at the moment.

All through the night, Mettaton proved himself to be a gentleman (gentlebot?), like opening the door to his limo (it was painted a pastel pink with sparkly tires) for you, complimenting you all the way to the restaurant, and just being a sweetheart in general. To be honest, you absolutely loved the attention and the affection he gave you, because you never really had anyone give you that before.

You really hoped he didn’t have any underhanded intentions.

The limousine arrived at the restaurant and you felt your nerves trying to eat at you. Once again, you shoved them aside. Tonight you were going to enjoy yourself, and the presence of a robot you may or may not have a thing for.

Mettaton seemed to know where he was going, because he led you through the restaurant with ease, to a room sectioned off from the main room. With a smile, he pulled out your chair for you and gestured for you to sit.

“You’ve been such a gentleman this whole evening,” you told him as he slid into his seat. You noticed that two bowls of fried rice were already on the table, still warm. Your mouth watered and you so desperately wanted to snap your chopsticks in half and go to town, but you held yourself back.

“Anything for you, lovely.” Mettaton narrowed his eyes. “You can eat that, you know. I don’t mind. You must be famished, since the only thing Alphys keeps stocked in her lab are instant noodles.”

_Thank you so much, robot Jesus_ , you thought to yourself, sliding the chopsticks out of their package before you started shoveling rice into your mouth. You tried to pace yourself and god, was it hard, but you didn’t want to fill up before you could order a roll.

To your surprise, Mettaton was eating too, just more slowly. You glanced at him, brows knitted together. He noticed your confusion and his pupil mutated into a question mark again.

“You can eat?” you said, disbelief coloring your tone. You watched as Mettaton’s expression shifted into amusement.

“Well, yes. In a way.” You watched as Mettaton spooned some rice into his mouth, and it disappeared immediately once it touched his synthetic tongue. You blinked. It almost like it disintegrated. “My soul absorbs the energy. It’s a bit redundant since I use more energy to convert the food into energy—but I didn’t want to make you feel awkward for being the only one eating.”

You gave him a small smile, your social anxiety thanking him. Mettaton repeated the expression, the heart-shaped pupil returning to his eyes. You also heard fans whirring within him that weren’t as loud as they were before. You wanted to inquire about that but you felt like it was too personal.

Eventually your waiter arrived and you ordered a dragon roll. Mettaton was watching you as you made your order, and when the waiter left you felt a light blush dusting your face. Clearing your throat, you rubbed your hands on your knees and gazed at the glamourous robot sitting across from you.

“So what’s up?” That seemed like an easy conversation starter.

Mettaton shut his eyes for a moment, humming. When he opened them, the fuchsia of his eyes changed into a carnation-pink. “Just on a date with a beautiful person who’s going to be in charge of my makeup.”

God, he was such a fucking flirt. You cursed the heat flooding your face (and other regions, regions that hadn’t felt that sort of heat in a damn long time) and shifted in your chair, pursing your lips. Mettaton raised a perfectly-arched brow. “Something the matter?”

“Nothing,” you lied, voice cracking. You felt like you were on fire. Mettaton was about to ask you another question but thankfully your waiter arrived with your dragon roll and you thanked every god you knew.

“Darling, you seem very tense.” Mettaton folded his hands under his chin and fluttered his eyelashes at you. You stuffed a piece of sushi in your mouth to hold off on responding to whatever the hell he was going to say next. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Is it the food?”

You coughed, choking down the piece of your dragon roll before answering. Mettaton’s eye widened. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m just—uh, nervous, is all. Y’know, because you’re like some famous celebrity and you just. Randomly asked me out on a date. N-not that I’m complaining, though,” you added on quickly. “I’m glad someone finally forced me out of the lab. And bought me food. That’s a bonus. But yeah, it’s just nerves, is all.” You cleared your throat. “And that I’m not really qualified to do makeup.”

“But darling, if you weren’t qualified, then I wouldn’t have hired you.”

“You didn’t even ask me if I _was_ qualified, though,” you pointed out. “You just asked me to do it.”

Mettaton pursed his synthetic lips. “You have a point there. And I must confess, I did have another reason why I hired you.”

You swallowed another roll before you replied. “Really? Do tell.”

“As you know, my previous makeup artist and I didn’t really see eye-to-eye. If I may be blunt…” he trailed off, looking around the restaurant before he continued, leaning in. For some reason, you leaned in as well. “…she was a huge bitch.”

Your eyes widened and you stifled a giggle at hearing Mettaton curse. His shows were always family-friendly so it was shocking to see him act different.

“And you…you seem so kind.” Mettaton rested his hand on top of yours, his warm heating the cold skin of your hand. “And so talented. Yes, I know, you must be incredibly nervous. I would be, too, working for someone of my caliber.” You rolled your eyes and he smirked. “But I believe you are perfectly capable for this position. If I didn’t, then I would not have hired you.”

Your heart fluttered and butterflies filled your stomach as your brain processed Mettaton’s words. You were honestly shocked at how genuine they sounded, how genuine and kind Mettaton seemed; you guessed he wasn’t that much of a drama queen after all. You were so thankful that the robot had offered to take you out, because now you’ve seen an entirely different side of him: the nicer side, albeit still a tad narcissistic, but still sincere and kind nonetheless.

“Well, darling, if you’re finished, why don’t we be on our way?” Mettaton was already standing, his hand raised, waiting for you to grasp it. You nodded, lips pulled into a sheepish smile as you took his hand. He pulled you up with ease, as if you were lighter than a feather. Your arms intertwined together as you left the building and entered his limousine.

As you sat down, you brushed off your leggings for any nonexistent crumbs before clearing your throat. Mettaton slid in next to you and closed the door, and you swore you heard his fans humming louder than normal. His pupil had returned to a fuchsia color, matching the glow of his heart, safely tucked behind a glass panel on his midsection.

“Thank you for tonight.” You grinned at him. The fans grew slightly louder. “How did you know I loved sushi so much?”

Mettaton tilted his head to the side, and his side-sweep bangs shifted slightly, yet you still couldn’t make out the other half of his face he always kept hidden. You briefly wondered if his ‘flawless’ face had a blemish he didn’t want to show.

“It was just an educated guess, darling,” he murmured. You were surprised at how quiet his voice had gotten. “Speaking of…you have something on your face.”

You let out an ‘oh’ sound and your hand began to rise towards your face, but you froze when Mettaton leaned towards you slowly. He was so close to you, you could feel warmth rolling off of him in waves.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting, however, was Mettaton leaning extremely close to you and swiping the tip of his tongue over the corner of your mouth to catch a grain of rice you hadn’t noticed was there. Another thing you weren’t expecting was Mettaton not leaning away. He kept completely still, as if awaiting your reaction.

You also weren’t expecting your reaction.

It was almost like there was a gravitational pull between you two. You felt yourself growing closer to Mettaton, and Mettaton was approaching as well, before you closed the gap when your mouths softly pressed against each other.

You were shocked. You had been expecting the cold, hard mouth of a robot, but what you encountered was the soft, plush mouth of Mettaton, who was kissing you back. And oh, god was he kissing you back, his lips moving and slotting against yours as if they belonged there, his pink, synthetic tongue dragging along the seam of your lips as if asking permission before sliding into your mouth. You parted your lips and invited him in, and Christ, he tasted wonderful. So sweet, so lovely, so _Mettaton_.

You didn’t know how long you two were like that, mouths crushed against each other, but eventually you had to come up for air. You broke the kiss and sucked in a breath when you noticed Mettaton’s robotic arms had wrapped around you. Many times, in fact. You took in his face; his hair was mussed up yet _still_ his goddamn bangs shielded half his face from you, his eye was a bright red with a quivering heart in place of his pupil, and a bright pink dusted over his cheeks. He sank his perfect white teeth into his bottom lip. The fans were going fucking wild.

There was silence. You hated silence. So you decided to break it.

“W-Well. That was a thing that just happened.” Your voice was husky and you felt incredibly lightheaded. “So do you always make out with your new makeup artists?”

Even Mettaton seemed dumbfounded by what had just occurred and you were shocked. “No…I do believe this is the first time this has ever occurred.” His attention dropped to his arms. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry—I went too far, now you’re probably freaked out—”

“No, no, wait,” you said quickly, gently placing your hands on his arms to prevent them from retracting. “If I wasn’t into it then we wouldn’t have got this far in the first place. But if you wanted to kiss me, then you could have just asked.”

Mettaton snorted. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

Giggling, you replied. “I know. C-Can…can we do that again?”

Mettaton nodded eagerly, crushing his lips against yours. His hands roamed your body and you sighed into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth. You heard something in his speaker crackle.

“Darling…” Mettaton murmured against your mouth. You really wondered how you suddenly ended up in his lap. “Might I suggest we head back to my studio and have a little…heart-to-heart?”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of Mettaton’s mouth. “That would be lovely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	4. sweet tooth and strawberry youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can never face my family again

Mettaton’s studio was located at the top of the MTT Resort. To avoid any paparazzi or fans he had the limousine driver take a secret route and you two snuck in through a back door, taking a hidden elevator that led right up to the top floor. The whole elevator ride Mettaton’s arm was wound around your waist, his gloved hand resting on your hip. You snuck a peek up at him through your lashes, and his eyes were still a bright red, pupil still in the shape of a throbbing heart.

Mettaton practically dragged you through his studio to a closed off room. You couldn’t even register what the room was before Mettaton had your back against the door, his mouth moving against yours. You grunted, winding your arms around the back of his head (he was really tall so it was nearly impossible), threading your fingers through his synthetic hair. You gave it an experimental tug and Mettaton fucking _hissed_ against your lips, his fingers wrapping around your thighs and hoisting you up against the door, his heart container grinding against your crotch.

Were you about to have sex with a robot? With a robot you practically met the other _day?_

“I hope I’m not going too fast for you.” Mettaton was speaking to you even though his mouth was busy sucking on the skin of your throat. He met your eyes. “I don’t want to rush you and make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

You sunk your teeth into your lip. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you wanted. Mettaton was handsome and charming, anything anyone would look for in a man (robot), and you loved all of the attention and affection he was giving you. However there was something in the back of your mind nagging at you to slow down, and being the careful person you always were, you heeded its advice.

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his nose, cupping his face in your hands. “Lemme down so we can actually talk about this, mkay?”

Mettaton pried his hands off your thighs and gently set you down, and you finally got to see the contents of the room you were in. It looked like a very large studio apartment, completely decked out in luxurious pink furniture. You snorted mentally. It was so _Mettaton_.

The robot led you to the bedroom where a large bed decked in pink and red sheets dominated the room. He sat down and patted the space next to him, inviting you to sit beside him.

“So I assume we were going too fast,” Mettaton said, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry, I should have controlled myself.”

You patted his thigh. Jesus Christ, his thighs were thick, you noticed. You briefly daydreamed about how they would feel like with your head in between them.

_No_ , you thought, mentally slapping yourself in the face. You needed to be rational about this. Instead of allowing your eyes to roam the curves of Mettaton’s body you closed them, sucking in a breath.

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, giving him a sheepish smile. You peeked at his face and his expression hadn’t changed. Was he still turned on? You tried not to laugh at the stupid pun. “If it makes you feel any better _I’m_ the one holding this back from happening, so…” You cleared your throat. “Uh…don’t laugh…but I’ve kind of never, uh, done this before. Well, I’ve done things similar to this, but I haven’t done the actual thing.” You were skirting around saying the actual goddamn words like the chicken you were. “I’m practically a virgin, is what I’m trying to say. And I want my ‘first time’ to not be some one night stand, you know?”

Mettaton nodded, pursing his lips. His visible eye raked over your form and you were reminded of the throbbing heat in between your legs. “With the way you kissed me I suppose I got the impression that you’re extremely educated in this field, darling.”

“Ah ha, well, like I said, I’ve fooled around with people before but I haven’t actually…yeah.” Your voice was cracking like you were some prepubescent teenage boy. Your face was probably pinker than Mettaton’s entire house. “This is going to totally happen though. Just give me some time, okay?”

“Of course, angel. Just take as much time as you need.” Mettaton smiled at you, threading his fingers through yours. You were so thankful that Mettaton was understanding, and surprised. You figured he would be impatient. This whole date-thing had completely shifted your views on him.

Your eyes fell from his face, dragging over his body before they settled on his heart container. Your brows knitted together in concern when what appeared to be some sort of pink liquid dripping into the container. His heart seemed to be pinker than normal, almost glowing.

“Uh, Mettaton.” You lightly tapped the glass of his heart container. You noticed him sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. “Is this supposed to happen?”

“Oh, yes, darling. Uhm…” Mettaton trailed off and you craned your neck to look at his face. He wasn’t looking at you yet you could still see that his visible eye was crimson and his cheeks were dusted with pink. You wondered how the hell he could blush, but that was a question to ask at another moment. “It’s—it’s completely natural, don’t worry about it.”

“Mettaton.” Your tone was firm. “Tell me what it is.” You flattened your palm against the glass and the robot tensed. Was it hurting him?

“It does that when I’m—aroused.”

A pause.

Oh.

There was silence and your palm was still pressed against the glass of the container. You could see his heart visibly pulsing and you wondered what it would feel like cradled in your palms.

“So you’re still horny, huh?” Your voice was huskier than usual. Even though you didn’t want to have actual sex with Mettaton at the moment you wanted to do something that would ease the aching heat nestled between your thighs, or at least help Mettaton with whatever the fuck this was.

“Darling, anyone would be after being kissed like that.” Mettaton pursed his lips. “It’s fine, though. I’ll be fine. I can take care of it. I assume…that you would like to be taken back to the lab?”

“Do you want help with that?”

Mettaton’s attention snapped to you, and you were tapping a gentle rhythm against the glass of his heart container with the pads of your fingers. You noticed more pink fluid draining out of his heart. You wondered what it would taste like.

“Excuse me?” His voice held more static than usual. You smirked, situating yourself so that you were straddling him. His eye widened, his heart-shaped pupil thumping erratically.

“Let me put it into simpler terms for you.” You placed your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him down onto his back. His expression was befuddled and his dark hair fanned behind his head like a black halo. Warmth radiated from him like he was the sun and you gently placed yourself on top of his heart container, grinding against it in experimentation. Synthetic teeth sank into synthetic lips. Perfect. “Do you want me to get you off?”

His internal fans began to whirr and static began to crackle in his speaker. “Oh, god, please.”

You gave him a smile and tapped the glass. “Open up, then.”

Mettaton nodded and you sidled down his body to see him turn the dial on his chest. There was a sound of air hissing through a condensed space as the glass slide away, revealing Mettaton’s soul. It was bright pink and fluid began to leak from the container onto Mettaton’s legs.

“You’re so _wet_ ,” you remarked, Mettaton softly moaning in response. You tentatively reached your hands out, almost asking permission before cradling Mettaton’s dripping wet heart in your palms. It was warm and soft to the touch and Mettaton was practically _purring_ once you placed it in your hands.

“Does this feel good?” you inquired, rubbing circles on it with your thumbs. It was very pliant, almost like it was putty. Mettaton answered with a groan muffled by the back of his hand. “Hey now, don’t cover it up, I wanna hear you.”

“S-Sorry, darling,” the robot murmured, voice glitching slightly. “It’s just that no one has touched me like this in s-so long…”

You allowed yourself to glance over his form, and he already looked so debauched and you had barely done anything. You didn’t know what you were more excited about: the fact that Mettaton was getting off because of you or the fact that you literally held his whole _being_ in your hands, and a squeeze or flick with your fingers would cause a string of lovely robotic moans to pour from his open mouth.

Fluid was beginning to drip down your palms and your curiosity was overwhelming you. As carefully as you could, you flattened your tongue against his soul and slowly dragged it up, and the mewls Mettaton made as you did so made you feel like you hit the goddamn jackpot.

“Did that feel good?” you asked, kneading his heart much like a cat would knead a pillow. One of Mettaton’s hands was fisted in his hair and the other was curled in his sheets. His pink tongue lolled out of his mouth and the sight was so fucking pornographic you felt like church couldn’t even save your soul now. You took it as a confirmation, and began lapping at the bottom tip of his heart.

“O-oh, f-fuck, _yes_ ,” Mettaton cried, voice glitching even more. His language sent molten heat slithering down your spine. “Please, please, more, g-give me more, more, more—”

You sucked harder and pink goo was beginning to dribble down your chin. Seeing Mettaton like this filled you with determination, so you combined sucking and licking at his soul and massaging it with your hands. He was practically writhing beneath you, synthetic drool oozing down his chin.

After one particularly hard suck your mouth suddenly filled with the pink liquid and the room was filled with a metallic, glitchy scream, and you knew Mettaton had reached release. Surprisingly, he tasted like strawberries, so you were able to swallow whatever the hell his heart produced without a hitch. You prayed to god it wouldn’t kill you.

You were about to say something, but you were shocked at how quiet the room had gotten, the only sound being your labored breathing and Mettaton’s cooling fans, which you guessed were on full blast. Carefully, you placed his heart back into the container and closed it, and that’s when dread weighed in your gut.

“Mettaton?” You gingerly shook him and Jesus fucking Christ his expression was frozen on his o-face. You began to frantically shake him when a shrill beep made you jump. Something was flashing in his visible eye.

_Battery: 0%_

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_ ,” you hissed. You clambered off of him and your hands were covered in his glittery pink robot jizz. You could deal with that later. “Mettaton, please wake up, I don’t know what to do—”

No response. His eyes were dim and his fans were slowing down. You dragged your hands through your hair, not even caring that you were getting his pink glittery robot jizz in it. You started pacing around his room, trying to calm your thoughts so you could focus. He was a robot, and robots needed to recharge, right? So there had to be a charger around here.

You rummaged around in his room before you came across a thick chord plugged into the wall next to his bed. You sighed in relief, but then another problem surfaced: you had no idea where the hell to plug it in.

“Well this was fucking pointless,” you grumbled to yourself, slinging the chord next to Mettaton’s limp body. You sat on the bed, head in your hands. You had no idea what the hell to do and you had no way to get back to the lab. Even if you did, you didn’t want to leave Mettaton lying on his bed like a lifeless corpse.

Your head snapped up at the thought of the lab.

 

“H-Hello?” Alphys’s nasally voice sounded thick with sleep and you felt awful for calling her at this hour but her robot creation was lying on his bed, completely fucked out and dead and you needed guidance. “Are you all r-right?”

“Yeah, I am,” you lied, pacing around the room at almost a breakneck pace. “Listen, uh, hey! So let’s say, hypothetically, that Mettaton kind of just, I don’t know…randomly lost battery! Where would you plug him in at?”

There was a pause and you felt like your heart was going to snap out of your ribcage.

“There’s a p-port on the back of his neck, but wh-why are you asking? Is he okay? Are you still on your date?” Alphys sounded extremely worried and you couldn’t even tell her that you just gave him the equivalent to a blowjob.

“Uh, sort of!” You cradled your phone between your shoulder and ear as you hoisted Mettaton up into a sitting position. You brushed some hair away from the back of his neck and sure enough, there was a port. With a sigh of relief you jammed it in and leaned him back against his headboard, seeing that the word _charging_ was flashing in his eye. “He invited me back to his place to Netflix and chill and his battery kind of just, died. Don’t you j-just hate when that happens?”

“Netflix and chill?” Alphys repeated. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are y-you gonna come back to the lab tonight?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” Your voice was incredibly high. “Uh, hey, I found the port, so that’s all I needed. Goodnight, I’ll see you later!” Before Alphys could reply you hung up, and you heaved a heavy sigh, phone dropping on the mattress next to you.

You stared at Mettaton, taking in his resting form. He wasn’t breathing, but the soft light of his heart was pulsing, letting you know that he was alive. Charging, but still alive.

The sudden adrenaline rush had sucked the remaining energy you had left. With a huff, you crawled next to Mettaton, situating yourself on the bed next to him. However, before you let sleep take over, curiosity got the best of you. You reached up and gingerly brushed the bangs that always shielded his face away, and saw what they were hiding.

The hidden half of his face was discolored, almost like Alphys hadn’t finished it, or like it had been ripped away. In the place of where an eye should be was a pink crosshair.

So his perfectly crafted face _was_ flawed.

Satisfied, you pressed a kiss to the crosshair and patted his bangs back down before lying back against the mattress, the thrum of Mettaton’s charging body lulling you into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if theres any typos bc im sick and dead
> 
> also IF I DONT REPLY TO YOUR COMMENT IM SORRY ive never gotten this many comments on a work before and im overwhelmed BUT I LOVE YOU ALL thank u so much


	5. the morning-after with a killer robot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so guess who has no idea where this fic is going to go. me  
> guess who never plans shit out. me  
> guess who is gonna try to figure out where this fic is going to go. me???
> 
> im glad im getting so many nice comments on this omfg i love yall sorry if i dont reply i just get,,,,, overwhelmed easily
> 
> also mentions of thw reader wearing a bra idk if that would bother anyone so im just gonna point that out just 2 be safe. pls enjoy

When you awoke the next morning you were nestled comfortably under the sheets of Mettaton’s bed, which was like sleeping on a cloud. You sighed dreamily, burrowing more under the covers and nuzzling your head against the pillow it was laying on. Strangely, you didn’t remember getting under the covers last night. You just recalled lying next to Mettaton’s recharging body and falling asleep on top of the comforter.

“Darling.” The voice was soft, despite its metallic echoes. You mumbled something incoherent and dragged the blanket over your head.

There was a chortle, and you felt fingers threading through your hair. Almost like a cat would, you leaned into the touch, hissing when the fingers got snagged by tangles. There were a lot of tangles in your hair, you realized. That, or something else.

“Beautiful, _please_ wake up. We need to do something about the dreadful situation known as your hair.”

“No,” you whined, pouting. You felt Mettaton’s weight shift onto the bed and the next moment he was looming over you, straddling you, his arms propping himself up at both sides of your head. “Five more minutes.”

“You do realize that my dried cum is plastered all in your hair, right?”

You pursed your lips, cracking one eye open. Mettaton was grinning down at you, and not even a millisecond after you had your sight on him, the stupid pupil in his visible eye had transformed into a heart. He leaned closer to you and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “Morning, gorgeous.”

“Pink glittery jizz?” you mumbled, it being the first thing to pop into your head. “Of all the things, Alphys chose pink glittery jizz.”

Mettaton just fucking giggled. “I know, isn’t it fabulous? I think it matches my personality to a T. At least your hair is glittery.”

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. The glitter stuck to your fingers transferred onto your cheeks. “Christ on a bike, Mettaton.”

“I’m sorry.” The robot casted a sympathetic gaze down at you, leaning down to pepper soft kisses all over your face. You were almost overwhelmed by how affectionate he was but you weren’t necessarily complaining. “It had been so long—and you’re so _clever_ with your hands, darling—”

“Perks of being an artist, babe.” You ignored the swell of joy in your heart hearing his internal fans purring when the nickname slipped from your lips. You drummed your fingers on his pink chest plate. “You don’t happen to have a shower, do you?”

“Well of course I do, darling. Even more than that, actually.” You felt his arms wind around you and you yelped when he picked you up, as if you weighed less than a feather. “I’ve already drawn you a bath. It was nice and hot when I left it, but it took ages for me to wake you up…hopefully it’s still warm.”

“M-Mettaton, you don’t even need to bathe, you’re a robot!” you stammered. His noodle arms held you securely in the air above his head. This scenario definitely made it into your list of the weirdest mornings you’ve ever experienced. “Why do you have a bathtub?”

“Just because I have no need to bathe doesn’t mean I can’t, sweetheart.” Mettaton smiled up at you, sharpened canine peaking slightly out from his lip. “I like to pamper myself, and what’s more pampering than a candlelit bubble bath?” He seemed confused at your incredulous look. “What, you think the great Dr. Alphys wouldn’t make me waterproof?”

“Well, I mean,” you started, just as Mettaton halted in front of a door that was presumably to a bathroom, gingerly setting you down onto your feet. You took in how much taller he was than you. You gave an estimate of about two feet. “You _are_ a robot, after all. But since you have a soul I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

“Correct.” His hand reached for the knob, twisting it. The door slowly creaked open and warm steam began to pour out from the room. “Now would you like to bathe alone or would you like me to accompany you?”

You immediately flushed and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Mettaton was expecting your exact reaction, flashing you a shit-eating grin with a purring laugh crackling softly through his speaker. God, you wanted to hate him. You really did. But seeing this side of him, the side he didn’t reveal to the cameras, made your hate dissolve like a monster’s corpse turning to dust. Kind of a macabre analogy, you knew, but it was the only one you could think of at the moment, what with a stupid glambot invading your personal bubble, winking at you seductively, his mouth pulled into a half-smirk.

An idea bloomed in your head.

You backed into the room and snagged his arm, and he must not have been expecting your reaction because he stumbled slightly, squawking. An evil smirk played on your lips.

“Sure, you can accompany me.” You indicated the glitter plastered all over you face, grabbing the hair on your head that was soaked in it, now dried with the consistency of hay. “You can help me wash your cum out of my hair.”

“Darling, you’re acting as if you didn’t enjoy i-it.” His voice glitched when you tugged off your shirt, a shock of static pulsing through the LED light of his eye. You were surprised. You admitted you didn’t have the nicest body and you were a bit afraid of what his reactions meant.

“Oh, I did, actually.” You slid out of your leggings and you remembered that he didn’t even see you naked last night. A shame. You gave him a wink before your arms folded behind your back, working on unclasping your bra. “But I did prefer it in my _mouth_ —”

Mettaton’s hands beat you to the punch, his arms stretching and unclasping your bra and pulling you against him before you could even finish your sentence. Your chest was pressed against his and you felt warmth radiating from it as well as the heart container digging into your abdomen.

You realized Mettaton brought out a side of your personality you weren’t all too familiar with. This side, the flirty, promiscuous side.

You kind of liked it.

“Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” you teased, drinking in the bright pink blush spreading across the robot’s face. You leaned up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw and you felt the vibrations of his fans against your chest.

“Now, come wash my hair, roboboy.”

 

Mettaton gave _damn_ good massages. When he helped you wash your hair he rubbed your scalp with one hand while the other busied itself with dancing along the knobs of your spine, rubbing out any knots he found, which was a lot. Being an artist doomed you to deal with back problems to the end of your days.

“Darling, I must recommend that you see—what do you humans call it? Ah, yes—a chiropractor,” Mettaton commented, his hands kneading your shoulders. You hummed in delight, leaning back into his touch. You were still in the bath and it was filled with bubbles, courtesy of Mettaton’s brand of bath soaps. Your now clean hair was propped atop your head in a wet bun while Mettaton massaged you.

“Would if I could,” you said, stifling a moan when Mettaton put heavy pressure on a huge knot at the back of your neck. Fuck yes, right _there_. “But I don’t think any chiropractors operate down here in the Underground.” Even if they did you figured the only anatomy they were educated on would be a monster’s.

“Why not take a trip back to the surface, darling?”

Mettaton must have felt you tense up, because his hands stopped moving.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

You forced yourself to relax. A sigh blew through your lips in a burst of air and you leaned into Mettaton’s touch, hoping that it would be enough for him to continue massaging you. “No, it’s just…the surface doesn’t have much to offer me anymore, so that’s why I moved down here. New opportunities, new people to meet, friends to make, you know.”

“Ah, yes. I completely understand what you’re saying, dear.” Mettaton began playing with your hair, carefully brushing it out and dividing it into separate pieces. You wondered if he was going to attempt to braid it. “But…surely you have family and friends above ground? Oh, I’m probably being nosy, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, and you briefly turned around to flash him a smile. Afterwards you leaned back into his touch, feeling Mettaton gingerly braid your hair.

You then pursed your lips. You had known this robot for not even a week and you felt like spilling your whole life story to him. Which was incredibly odd. Even Alphys, the person you lived with and oftentimes worked for, didn’t know that much about your life on the surface, just the fact that you came down here for a ‘change’. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, now.

But with Mettaton, you felt like you could tell him anything. The amount of trust you wanted to put into him at this point was staggering, and it almost frightened you. You had never, ever, harbored feelings for someone (who is literally a fucking robot) like this before in such a short timeslot that it made anxiety chew at your insides.

You shrugged internally. It’s not like you had to tell him _everything_.

“I lived by myself before I came here,” you said. “And a lot of people in my family rarely keep up with each other. Chances are none of them know that I’m in the Underground. And as for friends…well, you know. Once you graduate high school people drift apart and never talk.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

There was a silence following your sentence, the only sound in the room being Mettaton’s fans and the occasional popping of bubbles. You could still feel Mettaton slowly plaiting your hair.

“You must have been very lonely.” You were surprised at how solemn Mettaton’s tone was.

Even though he couldn’t see it, a melancholy smile spread across your lips. “Yes. I was very lonely. But now…I have everything I could ask for. I draw for a living—I guess now I do that and makeup for a living—I live with a kickass scientist, I have a group of wonderful friends who I consider my family, and I’m finally in a place that I consider home.”

Mettaton had stopped braiding your hair and was now tucking errant strands behind your ear. The water was becoming cold. Most of the bubbles had popped. Your fingers and toes must have looked like prunes.

“Well…I’m very glad that you’ve found yourself here.” You sensed a small smile in his robotic voice. “Speaking of makeup…”

“…today’s my first day on the job, isn’t it, boss?” You craned your neck to grin at Mettaton, and he flashed a smirk back.

“It sure is.” A gloved finger tapped your nose and you scrunched your face up. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so th reader is gonna have some sad backstory or some shit bc i love bein sad :)
> 
> follow me on tumblr nerds!!! esp if u reblog undertale bc i need more of that shit in my life!!!! patragems.tumblr.com


	6. rhinestone my eyes closed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so im thinking of making this 10 chapters. hopefully. maybe
> 
> [Follow me on tumblr!!!](http://patragems.tumblr.com) talk to me!!!! [reblog my mtt fanart!](http://http://patragems.tumblr.com/post/139369266956/a-message-from-your-fave-glambot) !!!

Your job as Mettaton’s makeup artist had finally begun and your nerves were eating you alive. It didn’t help that the robot’s studio was buzzing with activity and energy that you weren’t used to—like directors, producers, and interns running around and the constant chatter. You could feel the beginnings of a headache blossoming behind your eyes and the day hadn’t even started yet. 

Mettaton had briefed you on his show schedule so you could theme his makeup to the show he was currently doing. He had a news show, a talk show, a late night talk show, and a cooking show, along with a plethora of others with really weird plotlines (one of them was about handwashing. You wondered how you were going to dress him up for that one). Since it was the morning he was doing his news show.

He escorted you backstage to his dressing room, where you would make the magic happen. Of course it was decked out lavishly in pink and it really didn’t help your growing headache. It was gaudy, yes, but not really in a bad way. Tastefully gaudy. Yeah, that was it.

Once the door clicked shut you gravitated towards the vanity mirror. You gave your reflection no heed and instead focused on the cosmetics strewn across the vanity, some of which you’d never even heard of. You wondered if they were some extremely fancy above-ground brand or if they were made in the Underground.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, examining bottles of foundation and concealer, fiddling with some eyeshadow palettes with colors ranging in various shades of pink. Mettaton was already sitting in front of the vanity, with an amused smile on his face.

“Having fun?” he asked as you began to swatch some of the products on your forearm. Jesus Christ, the eyeshadows were really pigmented. You were probably going to have pink streaks on your arms for the rest of the day.

“Well I mean, I’m nervous as all-hell but this whole”—you motioned to the vanity with a flurry of your hands since you couldn’t think of any words—“is really awesome. I’ve never seen so many products before, it’s making me kinda dizzy.”

“Do you need to sit down, darling?” You noted the concern in Mettaton’s voice. Genuine concern. Even his eye flickered.

“No, no, I’m fine. Uh…I guess I should get started…”

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as your mind went to work thinking of what to do. All of the new products did make you feel a tad dizzy since you didn’t know _what_ to put on Mettaton. Your hands reached out and picked up an eyeshadow brush and some eye primer.

“Well, since it’s a news program, how about we try something a bit subtle?” you said, unscrewing the cap to the primer and rubbing some on your finger. You didn’t need that much, seeing as Mettaton only had one eye. You deliberated if primer would even _work_ considering that the robot didn’t even have real skin. Oh, well. Better safe than sorry.  “Close your eye, please.”

“Define ‘subtle’, sweetheart.” Mettaton’s voice was a purr as he shut his eye so you could dab the primer on it. Should you have put foundation on first? Once again, did he even really _need_ foundation?

“Well, not so in your face, you know? A more natural look. Something that will help people focus on what you’re reporting rather than you.”

“But I want people to focus on me.” Mettaton fluttered his gorgeous eyelashes at you and actually pouted. Your mind flashed back to when you sucked off his heart and the same face was twisted in pleasure.

You cleared your throat, casting your gaze over the forest of cosmetics on the vanity before finding the eyeshadow palette you were looking for. It had more muted, matte shades of pinks and reds that would help with the look you were aiming for. They would also match the crimson red suit he wore for his broadcasts. A very nice, very fitting suit. “But you’re doing a _news show_ , Mettaton. You’re reporting the news, not yourself.”

Mettaton fell silent as you loaded up a brush with a light shade of pink and began to pat it on his eyelid. He then spoke quietly. “I suppose you’re right. And I suppose that I’ll look fabulous either way.”

“Don’t worry,” you murmured absentmindedly. You dabbed a bit of a highlight under his brow to define the arch. You heard his internal cooling system start up. “I’ll make you look as best as I can. To be honest…” you loaded up the brush with a darker shade of pink and started to apply it in his crease. It wasn’t too dark, but it was enough to bring out his eyes. Just not dramatically. “…I didn’t even know you wore makeup. I just thought you naturally looked good.” You realized what you said and you quickly stammered, “N-Not that you don’t look good all the time! What I meant was that you always looked like the makeup was, uh, like, built on? Like Alphys designed you with it, you know what I mean?”

Mettaton began to chuckle, his shoulders shaking with the effort of trying not to guffaw. You felt your face burning with embarrassment. The robot glanced up at you and even with his makeup half done he still looked drop-dead _gorgeous_.

“I completely understand what you’re saying, darling,” Mettaton chortled, a gloved hand reaching up to cover his perfect lips. “I take what you’re saying as a compliment, so don’t worry about offending me.”

Relief swelled in your stomach and a sigh heaved through your lips. You finished his eye makeup with a few dabs of eyeliner and a swipe of mascara, and daubed a little bit of matte black lipstick to his lips. You stood back to examine your handiwork, and once you were satisfied, you moved out of the way to let Mettaton examine himself in the mirror.

“Oh, baby doll,” Mettaton said and the new pet name sent a shiver down your spine. Mettaton leaned closer to examine himself in the mirror, fluttering his eyelashes experimentally. Suddenly robotic arms wrapped around you and squeezed you in a tight hug. “You made me look absolutely gorgeous. I’m so, so glad that I hired you.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you were about to snap at him for messing up his lipstick, but he didn’t pay attention. He released you and skipped over to the door, winking at you and blowing you another kiss before exiting the room.

Suddenly you felt like your legs were the consistency of jelly, and you plopped down into the seat in front of the vanity. You paid yourself a glance in the mirror to see a black kiss mark staining one of your flushed cheeks.

Asshole.

 

The day from then on went smoothly from there, with you being called on set between commercial breaks to touch up Mettaton’s makeup. Mettaton had smugly asked you why one of your cheeks was red and you muttered, “Some asshole robot kissed my cheek and rubbed his waterproof lipstick all over me and I had to scrub it off.” That earned a metallic chuckle.

After filming the news there was a break before filming began for Mettaton’s cooking show. Mettaton told you he had some business to take care of, not specifying whatever it was, which left you alone with an hour to kill before he came back. You were still very shy, too shy to venture out of his dressing room and socialize with everyone out there, so you stayed shut in the room, lounging on a pink, fluffy couch with your head propped up with a pillow, and a granola bar shoved into your mouth.

“Someone missed me,” you mumbled around the bar, unlocking your phone to see various text messages and a few missed calls from Alphys. You probably should have checked in with the scientist and told her you were all right.

Later, you thought. You decided to check your text messages. You read one from Sans.

_from the sound of it you needed to do some serious **recharging** from last night._

Your brow furrowed at the next and you prayed to God that Alphys hadn’t told anyone about you and Mettaton. Your thumbs worked quickly to type out a response.

_What the hell is that supposed to mean, bone boy?_

Your phone pinged. _since al told me about you and mtt i thought you’d know_

_Oh my god im gonna kill her_

Grimacing, you opened up some more texts, which were from Papyrus, Toriel, and Frisk, all wishing you good luck on the job today. Your grimace flipped into a smile and you typed out responses for each of them before you noticed another name, one you didn’t know you had programmed into your phone. There was a text from someone named _< 3 <3 MTT <3 <3_.

You wondered who it could be.

 _Darling, please save me from this meeting. I’m so bored._ There was a picture attached and it was of Mettaton pouting, looking half asleep.

You stifled a snort and began to type out a response. You added a picture of you sticking your tongue out at him, your fingers in the shape of a peace sign.

  _I thought you ran this place, can’t you just end the meeting earl. Also how did I get your number_

A response. _I programmed it into your phone this morning. Also…you’re right. I’ll be back to the room in a bit. Wait for me, sweetheart~_

You shook your head, rolling your eyes as well. Since now you only had a little time left you decided to call up your good friend Alphys.

“So what did you tell Sans?” You shouldn’t have put the threatening tone in your voice, but you kept it on the lighter side.

“H-h-h-hi! Oh wow. Uh, it’s not what you think! I-I just told him that you were spending the n-n-night at his place after y-your date and—oh.” You could hear the click in her mind as she put it all together. “That actually sounds bad once I said it out l-loud.”

“Why did you even tell him about it?”

“I w-was doing an experiment and I needed some help and you weren’t here so I asked Sans for help and he asked me where you were so I told him I’m sorry I worded it wrong—”

“Okay, Speedy Gonzalez, slow down,” you murmured calmly, trying not to giggle. “It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. He just sent me a stupid text with a suggestive robot pun and I thought you told him we had, like, sex or something.” Which, once again, wasn’t that far from the truth, but you were digressing. “Anyway, I’ll probably be back at the lab tonight, if Mettaton doesn’t kidnap me again.”

“O-Okay, that’s good. S-So how’s your first day at work?” Alphys asked.

“It’s surprisingly very fun,” you replied, kicking your legs. “I thought Mettaton would be really rude and dramatic to the staff here but he’s so kind to everyone and stuff. Speaking of the bot, I should probably get off the phone since I’m about to be on the clock again. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“All r-right.” Alphys sounded relieved. “Have f-fun!”

As soon as you hung up the door to the dressing room burst open and Mettaton stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. You glanced up and he had an exasperated look on his face. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, carding gloved fingers through his hair.

“Rough day at the office, honey?” you asked jokingly, sauntering over and leaning against the vanity while Mettaton sat himself in front of it.

“Oh, it’s just the usual,” Mettaton sighed. “We had a meeting to discuss new recipes for the cooking shows next week since we have some for this week. We usually make posts on the UnderNet and on Facebook for suggestions and all we get is someone named CoolSkeleton95 spamming ‘spaghetti’.”

A shock of laughter shook your shoulders and Mettaton stared at you incredulously. You covered your face and your giggles were muffled by your palms.

“Something funny, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You sucked in a breath, wiping fake tears away from your eyes. “CoolSkeleton95—that’s my friend Papyrus. He loves all of your shows and he’d probably die if you took his suggestions. I mean, not like die in a bad way—he’s a skeleton so technically I guess he’s already dead—but he’d be ecstatic.”

Mettaton pursed his lips, studying you for a moment before speaking. “Well, we are going to do a spaghetti dish this week. I suppose I could make a shout-out to him. Do you think that would make him happy?”

“Oh, my gosh, yes. He probably wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. He’d be all like, ‘I, the great Papyrus, have finally been acknowledged by the greatest star of the Underground! Nyeh-heh-heh!’” Your impression was godawful but you still had a goofy smile plastered on your face. “But yeah, if you did that for him he would be extremely happy. You should do it.”

Mettaton was looking at you like he was a blind man seeing the sunrise for the first time. He gave you a soft smile and nodded. “Then if it makes your friend happy, I’ll do it. But…” he trailed off, sighing. “I still don’t know what to make for next week.”

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, mulling over the possibilities. Then an idea popped into your head.

“What about butterscotch-cinnamon pie?”

Mettaton’s pupil morphed into a question mark. “Butterscotch-cinnamon pie?”

“Yeah. Toriel makes it all the time and brings me some when she brings Frisk and Asriel over to Hotland to visit.” Your mouth began to water and you wished you had more than a granola bar to hold you over before dinner. “It’s so, so good. She gave me a recipe but since Alphys never has the ingredients stocked up I can never make it. I can give you it if you wanna try it.”

A smile spread across Mettaton’s lips, a smile that touched his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do, darling.”

You returned the grin with heat in your cheeks. “Thank you. So let’s get ready for the next episode, all right?”


	7. so self-obsessed with my mascara and mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing is so hard. im dying
> 
> sorry i dont have anyone to beta my fics so if theres any typos...its my fault
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS I LOVE YOU ALL
> 
> FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR @ PATRAGEMS

You loved your new job.

It surprised you, really, thinking back to how nervous you had been on the first day. Now, a week later, you had gotten into the flow of things, had gained and understanding of the cosmetics Mettaton wanted you to used, and even befriended some of the crewmembers for his shows. You had finally emerged from the shell you had built for yourself.

Today you were off work and you were in Snowdin, visiting with Sans and Papyrus. The snowy little town was a nice change from the oppressive heat in Hotland, even though you didn’t really have the appropriate clothing for it. You had dressed in quite a few layers, lacking a scarf, hat, or gloves, but the fresh cinnamon bunny you had procured from the local merchant was doing an adequate job at keeping your hands warm.

You trudged through the snow up to the skeleton brothers’ doorstep, tapping the snow off your shoes as you knocked a rhythm on their door. You knew you could probably just walk in since you were friends but you wanted to be polite. Papyrus answered seconds after with a big, goofy smile on his face. You would have said hello had your mouth not been stuffed with a bite of cinnamon bunny, so you gave him a wave.

“Human!” the skeleton exclaimed as he allowed you inside. You noticed he was wearing his _Cool Dude_ shirt. “You look very frigid!”

You chuckled, shoving the cinnamon bunny into your mouth as you started peeling off the layers you had on. “Well, when you live in Hotland, pretty much everything cooler is frigid.”

“Heya, kid,” Sans said from his place on the couch, waving. Still wearing that same hoodie, as always. You immediately remember that stupid robot pun he texted you and you grimaced at him. “What? You look like you got a _bone_ to pick with me.”

You rolled your eyes, popping the rest of the cinnamon bunny into your mouth. “Nothing. Anyway, are you excited for this episode of Mettaton’s cooking show, Pap?”

“I’m _always_ excited for any of Mettaton’s shows!” Papyrus proclaimed loudly, and if he was wearing his cape, you imagined it would be flowing in the wind. Even though you were inside, and there were no fans.

“Well, you should be extra excited for this one,” you told him, claiming your spot at the edge of the couch. The show was about to begin. “I had some input on it and there’s a surprise in it that I think you’ll very much enjoy.”

“Ooh, I wonder what it could be!” Papyrus crowed as he nestled himself in between you and Sans. You could feel the excitement rolling off of him in waves. You had your phone snug in your hand, camera open, ready to record his reaction and send it to Mettaton. You had been shocked when Mettaton had made the request, a bit touched when the robot had said with a genuine smile about how he loved to see when his fans were happy.

Thinking of the robot sent the dormant butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. Ever since you started working for him (and since your sort-of one night stand) he made sure to constantly flirt with you and call you every pet name in the book at any opportunity he could get. He had taken you to that sushi restaurant again and while you were stuffing your face he told you about how he got invited to be a guest on a TV show on the surface and how he wanted you to accompany him.

You had almost choked on your food.

Papyrus’s booming voice proclaiming the show was starting snapped you out of your daydreams, and you focused your attention on the screen as the intro started. Papyrus was already on the edge of his seat, bones rattling in excitement, so you kept your phone’s camera trained on him and tapped the record button.

Mettaton looked absolutely adorable in his cute little apron with “Kiss The Cook~” stitched on it. You noticed his makeup looked on point and you recalled you were the one who did it, so _of course_ it looked on point.

“Beauties and gentlebeauties, thanks for tuning it!” Mettaton flashed the cameras an award-winning smile and you felt your heart begin to palpitate. “Today we’re making a dish that has been suggested to us for a very long time now, so shout out to CoolSkeleton95 on the UnderNet, Papyrus, for the suggestion! Today, we’ll be making spaghetti.”

“Whoa,” Sans said. “Pap, he totally noticed you.”

You leaned forward to gauge Papyrus’s reaction and you were pretty sure if he had eyes they’d be sparkling, like in one of Alphys’s animes. His jaw was slack and you were a bit worried that it was going to fall off when all of a sudden you felt bony, strong arms wrap around you and squeeze, literally lifting you into the air.

“Human!” Papyrus all but shouted, orange tears beginning to fall from his eyesockets. “Did you do this?”

_How the fuck can he lift me up? He doesn’t have any muscles!_ “I told you I had some input on it, didn’t I?”

“I cannot believe this,” Papyrus said, completely in awe. He gently sat you down, completely oblivious to the fact you were recording him. “I cannot believe that finally, I, the great Papyrus, have been acknowledged by the greatest star in the Underground! Wowie! I should post about this on the UnderNet! But not before I finish watching this!” Papyrus laid in front of the TV, skull resting on his hands, kicking his legs like a child watching their favorite Saturday morning cartoon.

You smirked, ending the recording and snapping a picture for good measure. You began to send them to Mettaton.

_he really loved it. He literally lifted me up into the air like he doesn’t even have muscles he loved it so much_

While you were waiting for his reply, you felt something nudge your side, and it was Sans, poking you with one of his slippers. You slapped it away and that earned a throaty chuckle.

“Thanks for that,” Sans rumbled quietly, usual smile plastered on his face. “But I feel like Papyrus ain’t gonna shut up about it for months.”

You paid the taller skeleton a glance and giggled. “Probably not. But at least it made him happy.”

Your phone vibrated in your hand, and you unlocked it to see a reply from Mettaton. The whole response was in capital letters.

_AAAHHH OMG!!! I’M SO GLAD HE ENJOYED IT! I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE REACT LIKE THAT~_

You smiled, your thumbs tapping out your response. _Hes probably gonna tell everyone on the damn continent about it now_

_Of course, darling. That would be the natural response._

Another text before you could reply. _Speaking of surprises…would you perchance be free this evening? I miss your face & I have a surprise for you._

You tried not to dwell on the ‘I miss your face’ but you did and you wanted to slap yourself for it. Screaming mentally for the butterflies in your stomach to go away, you slowly typed out a response.

_After I’m done hanging with the skelebros im gonna stop by the lab and sketch up some schematics for alphys and after that my schedule should be clear. What are you doing_

_Baby doll, it’s called a surprise for a reason~ I’ll be waiting for you. Just text me when you’re on your way, honey~_

You tried to ignore how much you liked it when he called you baby doll. It didn’t work.

 

You bid farewell to the skeleton brothers and headed back to Hotland on the River Person’s boat, feeling contented at the sounds of splashing water. When you arrived back at the lab you and Alphys got right to work and after a few hours you were done. Cracking your knuckles, you checked your phone just as you received a text from Mettaton. Adding to the many other texts you had received from Mettaton.

_Darlinngggg hurry up I miss you_

_You’re taking too long. A deranged fan could have broken into my home and dismembered me and no one would know._

One of the texts had a picture attached. It was of Mettaton, with a hand thrown over his face for a dramatic effect. _I’m dying over here, gorgeous. Do hurry up._

“Alphys,” you murmured as you scrolled through the other various texts Mettaton sent you. “Why did you make Mettaton so needy?”

The steady tapping of claws against a keyboard halted, then resumed. “Well…” She trailed off, then mumbled something you could barely make out. You only heard “…always been like that.”

You wondered what she meant, but you decided not to press it further. Pocketing your phone, you made your way to the door of the lab, saying, “Mettaton wants me to come visit him at his apartment so I’m heading out.”

The typing stopped again. “Oh. O-Okay, have fun.”

The tone of her voice made you stop in your tracks and you turned to face her. “Are you okay?”

Silence fell over the lab, the only sounds being the whirring of machinery. Alphys looked extremely uncomfortable.

“I—um…well.” She turned in her chair to look at you, wringing her hands together anxiously. “I don’t mean to pry, so just t-tell me if you don’t want to answer but…are you and Mettaton...like—a—a thing?”

It took you a minute to process her words. When you did, you were…a bit stumped at how to answer. To be honest, you had no idea what the hell you and Mettaton were. You worked for him but you had also went on a date with him and sucked off his heart the same night. You had no idea what to tell her.

“Honestly, Alphys,” you responded, shrugging. “I don’t know what we are. But…I do like him. A lot. Which is weird for the short amount of time that we’ve known each other.”

Alphys was quiet for a beat before responding. “Mettaton talks about you a lot. To me, I mean.”

“He does?”

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah. He says…he says a lot of nice things. He talks about how kind and talented you are and how wonderful you are to work w-with. And he thinks you’re really c-cute.”

You really hoped that your face wasn’t showing how flustered you felt. You felt your phone vibrating in your hand and you knew it was Mettaton yelling at you to hurry up, which you should have been doing.

“W-Well, I won’t keep you!” Alphys squeaked, turning back to face her PC. “Mettaton m-must be wondering where you are. You sh-should get going.”

Completely stunned, you nodded at her, coughing a bit, before exiting the lab, your face a bright pink.

 

The trek to Mettaton’s house was silent, sans for the industrial sounds made by the Core, and your racing thoughts.

You didn’t know what to do. You could feel the bond between you two growing and morphing into something more and you didn’t know how to react. You had never felt like this about anyone in such a short amount of time and it scared you. And the sad thing is, you had no idea what Mettaton thought of you—except for what Alphys told you.

Even worse, you wanted to tell Mettaton about your life—every aspect of it, and if you were going to accompany him to the surface you would have the chance…but you couldn’t even bring yourself to think about it. You came to the Underground to forget about your life on the surface and you didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Something inside of you kept telling you he deserved to know.

You were in your trance for all of the trip so Mettaton opening the door and extending his arms to wrap you in a tight hug shocked you, and you yelped in surprise. The arms around you immediately slackened and Mettaton sat you down, concern on his face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” You tried not to dwell on the concern in his voice.

“N-No, I was just daydreaming, sorry,” you replied, letting out a shaky laugh. Mettaton’s finger tipped up your chin so he could examine your face. “Sorry I was so late, I was talking to Alphys.”

“I suppose I can forgive you, honeybun,” Mettaton mused, taking your hands in his and leading you into his apartment. A familiar scent hit your nostrils, something you got to smell only on occasion. “I’ve been working on this for you all day. It may not taste exactly like you’re used to.”

“What did you— _whoa_.” Mettaton led you into his kitchen which looked like an unmitigated disaster. Flour covered the pastel pink walls, pie tins were thrown here and there, and it was just a mess. You never thought that Mettaton could make such clutter. Why was he even cooking? He didn’t even need to eat!

“I know, darling, it’s a disaster,” Mettaton said, tone solemn. He let go of your hand and skipped over to the kitchen table, turning around to flash you a big grin. “But, it’s all for a good cause.”

“What did you do?” You cautiously approached the table, but Mettaton had picked up whatever he wanted to show you and hid it behind his back.

“Well, I took your suggestion and I made several attempts at making it—you can see these attempts scattered all over the room. But!” You had never seen Mettaton so happy. “I believe that this was a successful attempt and I wanted to share it with you.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it when Mettaton showed you what was behind his back. It was a pie, and you were a bit confused, but then you recalled the conversation you had with him and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Is…is that butterscotch-cinnamon pie?” you said, voice quiet. Mettaton hummed and flashed you his pearly whites.

“Yes! I tried my best, darling, just remember that.” Mettaton sat the pie down and leaned over to press his lips against your cheek. “And it’s also…an apology of some sorts. About the whole surface thing. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you so suddenly. I completely understand if you don’t want to accompany me.”

You felt your throat tighten up and you were speaking before you even thought. “I-I kind of overreacted. But I think I can manage going up with you.” You prodded his shoulder and giggled. “And since you made the pie I guess I have no choice.”

Mettaton practically squealed and wrapped you up in a hug, and in his embrace you felt safe, you felt warm, and you felt wanted. Within his arms, you came to a resolution, and no matter how much the thought of it terrified you, you were going to go through with it.

You were going to tell him about the life you lived on the surface.


	8. i almost died (but it felt great)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!!! THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER LMAO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
>  ALSO THIS IS A REALLY LONG CHAPTER JESUS FUCKING CHRIST sorry if there's any typos because i cranked this out in a few hours because i wanted to get another chapter out before i got busy with a lot of college work so yeah  
> also this is totally what mtt sounds like when he busts a nut: http://crashboombanger.tumblr.com/post/135495254962
> 
> follow me on tumblr! my username is patragems
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter! ill see you all in hell

Tonight was the end of a string of concerts Mettaton and his band were performing in the Underground before they moved to the surface, and you had front row seats—well, you did. Mettaton had offered you the tickets for free but you declined, saying, “Loud noises and crowds aren’t exactly on my list of favorite things.”

Mettaton had literally pouted and you felt like you would brave any crowd for him at this rate. “Well…if you insist. I suppose you can watch the concert from the comfort of my dressing room. Ah! I have an idea. I’ll give all of your friends free front row tickets.” He gave you a big toothy grin. “I’m sure your skeletal-friend Papyrus would enjoy that immensely.”

And boy, did he enjoy it—Papyrus called you up practically screaming in excitement and you felt like you weren’t going to hear out of your right ear for the rest of the day. At least it had been for a good cause. You knew Sans and Undyne didn’t really care for Mettaton, and that Toriel would only go because Frisk and Asriel wanted to, so at least Papyrus could act excited for everyone else.

It was a few hours before the concert and you were heading to the venue, which was in the MTT Resort, almost as always. You waved to a few of the sound monsters and producers as you made your way to Mettaton’s dressing room. When you arrived Mettaton was there, chatting with two other monsters you’d seen before but weren’t very familiar with. One was a monster that seemed to be in the shape of a fish and the other looked like a literal ghost.

Oh. These must be the members of Mettaton’s band.

“Darling!” Mettaton piped as you shut the door behind you, and you gave him a furtive smile and a shy wave. “I’m so glad you’re here—I’ve been meaning to introduce you to the other members of my band. This is Shyren”—he nodded to the fish monster—“and this is my cousin Napstablook!” He smiled at the ghost.

His _cousin?_

“H-Hi,” you stuttered out, waving. Shyren returned the gesture with one of her fins and Napstablook gave you a nod.

“I really hope people like us on the surface…” Napstablook spoke, and their voice sounded very light, almost airy.

“Of course they will, Blooky,” Mettaton reassured the ghost, giving them a smile. “They love us down here, so I’m sure they’ll adore us up there!”

“I hope so…oh…do you two…need to be alone,” Napstablook asked.

“Well, we don’t have to be,” Mettaton replied. “But if you need to leave to go do a sound-check then that’s okay.”

Napstablook looked at Shyren. “Then we’d better get going…” The ghost put their attention on you. “It’s nice to meet you…Mettaton talks a lot about you…”

“It was nice to meet you guys too.” You gave the two monsters a shy grin as they departed, Napstablook phasing through the door and Mettaton opening the door for Shyren. When it latched shut, you said, “Aw, they seem nice.”

“They are.” Mettaton leaned against the door, attempting a seductive pose, but to you he just looked dorky. You stifled a giggle and it sounded like a snort. “So what did you need from me, gorgeous?”

“What do you think, nerd? I need to know what you’re wearing tonight so I can theme your makeup with it.”

Mettaton scoffed, his countenance offended. “Darling, I am _not_ a nerd. You could have asked without insulting me. And if you must know,” he pushed himself off from the door and sashayed past you, and you forced yourself not to pay attention to how his hips swayed. Lately you had caught yourself staring a bit too much at Mettaton’s body, taking in every luscious curve of his torso and hips, the cupid’s bow of his luscious lips, and _Christ_ , you didn’t even want to get started on his legs.

“I’m going to be wearing this.” Dangling from his fingers, hanging on a clothes hanger, was a skimpy little black dress with enough sequins to cover the whole surface of the earth. You felt your throat run dry as your mind conjured up images of Mettaton rocking the dress, the fabric straining over his hips and thighs as he danced on stage—

“Baby doll?” Of course, _that_ pet name caught your attention. “Do you not like it?”

“N-No, I love it!” you squeaked, and you hoped your face wasn’t red with as warm as you suddenly felt. Clearing your throat, you meekly approached the robot and touched the dress, worrying the sparkling fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “So what were you thinking?”

Mettaton’s hum sounded like a metallic purr. He eyed the dress, then you. “How about something dramatic? Something shimmery?” His lips curled into a grin. “Something that screams, ‘Look at me!’”

“I think the dress is accomplishing that,” you said, pursing your lips. “I think I’ll do a cat eye.”

“Ooh, splendid!” Mettaton laid the dress across the back of one of the couches in the room before he sat himself down in front of the vanity, fluttering his eyelashes at you along the way. You allowed yourself one glance at his ass. Bad idea.

“You’re very hyper,” you noted as you approached the vanity, sorting out the products laying out for you. You avoided meeting Mettaton’s eyes in the reflection in the mirror.

“I’m always hyper before concerts,” the robot explained, watching as you gathered the brushes and palettes you needed. He fluttered his eyelashes at you again. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip. “And seeing your gorgeous face fills me with even _more_ energy. I feel like I’m fully charged every time I see you, baby doll.”

“You also turn into a huge flirt,” you muttered, and he just fucking giggled like it was the most entertaining thing he heard tonight. “Close your eye, nerd.”

“Of course, sweetheart, anything for you. But I’m not a nerd.” Before he shut his eye, you noticed that the color of his iris was a mix between the crimson you saw before you sucked off his heart, and the pink that always lit up his eye when the two of you spoke. His pupil was also in the shape of a heart, beating slightly.

You wondered what it could mean.

You also paid attention to how abnormally noisy his internal cooling system was; usually it was a calming background noise but the fans’ hums were significantly louder tonight, and his cheeks were dusted with a rosy pink.

When you were done with him you were going to text Alphys and ask what the hell was up with him.

Mettaton purring your name yanked you out of your thought process. “Have I ever told you how soft your hands are, gorgeous?”

You had been dabbing primer on his eyelid with your ring finger. “Nope, but you just did, so…thanks.”

The robot chortled, opening his eye once you moved away. His iris was a bright red now, the heart-shaped pupil throbbing. “Well, have I ever told you how blessed I am to have you working for me?”

“Probably,” you said, trying not to smile as you loaded up a brush with eyeshadow. “Close your eye again for me, flirtbot.”

“You and your insults.” Mettaton pouted, yet shut his eye for you as you patted on the makeup. “Are you sure you don’t want to come see the show live? I still can give you a ticket.”

“I’m sure, Mettaton.” You wanted to change your mind at his sad expression but your fear of crowds won you over. “I can watch it from here. And I’m sure I’ll hear it from here, too. Every single note you sing.” You daubed some darker eyeshadow along his crease. “And I’m also sure I’ll hear all about it from Papyrus.”

You finished up the eye makeup with two wings to his eyeliner, one black and one bright pink, and went on to paint his lips a matte black. He was already so beautiful and adding the makeup to it wasn’t good for your heart. He seemed to notice how flustered you were and gave you a lopsided grin, his sharpened canine overlapping his bottom lip.

You wanted to punch him, yet at the same time you wanted to kiss that smug smile off his stupid face.

“Wonderful job, as always, darling.” Mettaton winked at you as he stood up, and you discerned that his heart was pinker than usual. He grabbed the dress off the back of the couch and slung it over his shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be off. I can hear the audience _screaming_ my name a-already.”

His voice glitched, yet he paid it no heed. He blew you a kiss and swayed past you, making it to the door before you spoke. “What, not gonna give me a real kiss?”

The robot paused, then turned to you slowly, his lips pulling into an evil smirk. His speaker crackled as he chuckled and you felt goosebumps prickle your skin.

“Darling, if I kissed you where I want to kiss you right now I’d have to cancel the whole show. We don’t want to disappoint the fans, do we?” Mettaton’s hand was on the doorknob and he began to slowly turn it. “And I’m afraid you would yell at me for smearing my makeup.”

You just stood there, shocked into silence. Mettaton gave you another shit-eating grin before saying, “Well, toodles!” and slamming the door behind him.

You yanked out your phone and immediately texted Alphys.

_Is it normal for Metta to get really flirty before concerts or_

While you were waiting for her response you threw yourself onto one of the couches and snatched up the remote to the giant flat-screen TV that dominated the other side of the dressing room. You flipped it on to the only channel the Underground had, and immediately grabbed your phone when you heard it ping with Alphys’s reply.

_yeah…concerts get him really…uh, frisky_. _if u think before the concert is bad u might not wanna stick around for after the concert tbh_

_why would you say that_

_because…all of the attention like. Really gets to him. Not necessarily in a bad way tho_

You stared at the screen for a long time before you tapped out a reply. _Oh. Well im just gonna stick around to make sure his dumb robot ass doesn’t die before he can recharge. Have fun for me @ the concert ok? Make sure papyrus doesn’t die of overexcitement_

_Ok! ;u; ill try lmao you know I hate crowds_

You snorted at the next, attention being drawn to the TV as the concert was starting. Since the room was near the stage the closed door did little to muffle the excited screams from the crowd, and they just enhanced in volume as Mettaton seductively stepped on the stage.

Your heart nearly stopped.

You had only imagined what Mettaton would look like in the dress and the image you had in mind was absolutely shattered by how fucking _banging_ he looked in it. The dress clung to him in such a way that it accented every curve and angle in his body that made your mouth water. The glittery sequins drew even more attention to his body and that’s when everything in your head clicked into place.

Mettaton got off on the attention. He was a fucking exhibitionist.

Your suspicions were confirmed even more when you got a good look at his body. His heart was glowing bright pink behind the fabric of the dress and his visible eye was a glowing red, his face was flushed, and every time the audience screamed and applauded him after each song a look of euphoria passed over his expression.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You couldn’t look away from his lips as his mouth formed the words he sang and you couldn’t look away from his body, how he swayed and how his hips moved when he danced to the beat. The audience was going absolutely mad and you felt like you were, too.

Finally after ages of continuous encores requested by the audience, the concert ended with Mettaton taking a bow and blowing a kiss to the audience, bringing out Napstablook, Shyren, other backup dancers, sound producers, etc., to take a bow as well. You watched as confetti and glitter rained from the sky as Mettaton brought the mic to his lips for a final farewell.

“Thank you so much for tonight, darlings.” His voice sounded wrecked and spent. “You all were wonderful. I’ll see you all on the surface, beauties and gentlebeauties.”

After a final bow, a blown kiss, and a flurry of waves, Mettaton disappeared off the stage.

You briefly pondered if you should have taken Alphys’s advice and had hightailed it out of there before the concert had finished, but it was too late now. The venue was probably still flooded with people and it would be a nightmare to attempt to leave right after a concert like that. Mettaton was probably off signing autographs so it would be awhile before he would even return to the dressing room.

Your text tone beeped shrilly and you checked your phone to see a message from Alphys that said _MTT looked like he was about to overheat so be careful with him ok? Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid_

_You got it, boss. I might be late comin back to the lab or I might not be back at all. Who knows honestly. How did you like the concert tho_

A reply. _It was good! =^.^=_

You were about to tap out a reply but the sound of an opening door stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw Mettaton standing in the room and he quietly latched the door behind him. His cheeks were flushed pink and he was covered in glitter, and his makeup was slightly smudged. He was breathing heavily which concerned you because he didn’t even _need_ to breathe, since he was a literal robot. You could hear his internal cooling system going crazy, the fans struggling to cool him down. Pursing your lips, you tossed your phone to the side and stood up, cautiously approaching the other.

“D-Darling.” His voice skipped like a scratched-up CD and you weren’t sure if it was because he sang so much or because it was obvious he was turned on. “I’m surprised you’re still here, I thought you would have left already.”

Your eyes dragged over his form and he knew you were looking because you saw his teeth sink into his bottom lip. “Hey, I said I was gonna stay and watch the concert. I was going to leave after but I figured getting out of the venue would be hell on earth.”

You wanted to play a game—a game of revenge. Since Mettaton was always relentlessly teasing you, you were going to get him back tonight. And if it ended in sex, then you figured you were pretty okay with that.

“Say, Mettaton.” You took a calculated step towards the robot and you saw him visibly tense up. “You look a little hot and bothered. Are you all right?”

Mettaton laughed nervously and through the thin fabric of the dress you saw pink liquid draining into his heart container. His back was pressed impossibly close to the door, trying to get as far away from you as possible. You vaguely wondered why. Maybe it was a form of self-control.

“What’s the matter, Mettaton?” you pressed, getting even closer to him. Warmth rolled off of him in waves. You fluttered your eyelashes up at him.

“Wh-what are y-you doing?” the robot stuttered. His hands were gripped into tight fists at his sides, as if he was trying to stop himself from grabbing you and shoving you against the door.

Mouth curling into a leer, you leaned on your tiptoes and whispered, “I know you’re horny as fuck right now, _baby_.” A whine crackled out of Mettaton’s speaker. Good.

“S-sweetheart,” Mettaton gritted out, his hands finally taking their place on the curves of your hips. You closed the short distance between the both of you, sequins of his dress catching in the threads of your clothes. “Please don’t tease me—”

“How can you say that to me when you’re the biggest tease I know?” you questioned, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your chest against Mettaton’s chassis. It was extremely warm, almost tipping over to uncomfortably warm.

It was too quick for your mind to process. At first you were pressing Mettaton against the door and now your back was to the door, Mettaton pinning you against the wood. His sight was trained on your mouth and you gave a nod of consent before he leaned in and crushed his lips against yours. Your mind flashed back to the night of your date, how both of your lips slotted together perfectly like two puzzle pieces, and how you were in the same situation you had been in back then: pinned against a door.

You took the opportunity to press the lock on the door before your hands roamed to better places, like the swell of Mettaton’s hips and ass, the fabric of the dress straining over his voluptuous curves. He hissed into your mouth when you dug your nails into his hips and you smiled smugly against his lips.

Mettaton let you take the lead as you pressed kisses all along his jaw and neck, threading your fingers through his as you lead him from the door to the couch. You pushed him down and he landed on his back with an ‘oof’ and you climbed on top of him, kneeling right over his heart container, your crotch brushing against it barely. Mettaton’s hair was completely fucked up, so much to the point that the other side of his face was showing.

“Baby doll,” Mettaton murmured. “You’re not judging me for the ugly side of my face, are you?”

You were completely shocked at his question and you blinked down at him. As an answer, you leaned down, brushing the remaining strands of hair away from the discolored side of his face before peppering a barrage of kisses all over it. Mettaton let out the robotic equivalent of a squeak.

“I would _never_ ,” you said between kisses, nuzzling against the unfinished side of his face. “It’s not ugly at all. I think it’s beautiful.”

“Sweetheart…you’re making me blush.” Mettaton’s fingers were tapping a rhythm up and down your spine as you trailed your lips down the angle of his jaw to the curve of his neck and throat. You decided to rest your crotch against his heart container, giving it an experimental grind. Mettaton’s body froze beneath yours and he let out a breathy sigh.

“Tell me what you want.” You met his gaze and his face was flushed, his only eye filled with need.

“You.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and Mettaton snickered. “I know that, nerd. But what do you want me to do for you?”

Mettaton nibbled at his bottom lip before responding. “This…might sound like a weird request, but…c-could you…um…”

Seeing Mettaton like this, completely flustered and unsure of what to say, made you extremely confused. You were so used to the loud, boisterous Mettaton, the one who always knew what to say and when to say it, yet this side was almost the polar opposite of that.

“Could you please…” Mettaton’s face grew impossibly pinker. “…eat me out?”

Oh. Well then.

Millions of things were rushing through your mind like cars on a racetrack and you were trying to organize your thoughts and figure out what to say at the same time. You felt heat throbbing between your legs at Mettaton’s request and you leaned down to suck Mettaton’s bottom lip between your teeth before you replied.

“I would love to, baby.” The fans in his cooling system kicked on again at your words.

Mettaton smiled at you. “You might be wondering how exactly that would be possible, so…” Trailing off, Mettaton hiked up his dress and reached down, and that’s when you noticed a small switch on the side of his hip. He flicked the switch and the sound of condensed air hissing through a tight space filled the room, and you watched in awe as two plates slid open on Mettaton’s crotch to reveal a hot-pink vulva, which appeared to already be wet with the robot’s arousal.

The only intelligent thing you could think to say was, “Holy shit.”

Mettaton chortled quietly, obviously a bit flustered. “Alphys thinks of everything, doesn’t she? Do you…like it?”

“Like it?” Your voice was gruff as you situated yourself between his thick thighs, pressing a kiss to the juncture where his thigh and his crotch met. He sucked in a breath. “I love it. Now lay back and enjoy yourself.”

Part of you just wanted to bury your face in Mettaton’s dripping wet pussy and make the robot scream, but the other part, the more logical part, wanted you to drag this on as long as possible. You wanted to shower Mettaton with praise and affection and wanted to savor every sigh and moan that he made.

“You were so good tonight, you know?” you hummed, pressing kisses and nibbling all over Mettaton’s thighs. He shivered. “You sang so well and you look so fucking _hot_ in this dress.”

You dragged your tongue over Mettaton’s slit and his hips bucked up to meet your mouth, but you pulled away too quickly. He let out a frustrated moan and pouted down at you. “Darling, p-please don’t tease m- _eeEEEE_!”

You had pressed your tongue against his clit, swirling the tip of it around the bud, and his words morphed into an autotuned cry. You smiled against his folds, letting your thumb do the work so you could kiss his thighs and speak.

“Christ, you’re so fucking hot. Everyone was looking at you tonight, weren’t they?” Mettaton whimpered at your words, crying out when you slid a finger inside of him. “And you loved it, didn’t you? You loved all of that attention.”

“Y-Yes, I did,” the robot panted, voice glitching. “I l-l- _ooove_ wh-when people look at m-me—”

You returned your mouth to his pussy, nose nudging against his clit while your tongue slid in and out of him. Robotic, glitchy moans were pouring out of his speaker and the sounds all went straight to your crotch, so one of your free hands slid into your pants to rub at your clit, alleviating some of the pressure.

“They all fucking loved you so much,” you continued, sucking on his clit between words. “Imagine if they saw you like this, though. Spread open for me like this. How do you think they’d react?”

“B-baby doll—” Mettaton cut off with a high pitched squeal. “P-Please stop teasin-g-g-g-g-g me—”

Mettaton was writhing beneath you, as you slid two fingers inside of him and inside of yourself. Your tongue worked quickly at his clit while you thrusted your fingers in him, massaging his inner walls. You could feel him clenching around you and you knew he was close.

“Oh, y-yes darling, right there—right th-there, darling, oh, that’s _perfect_ —” Mettaton was babbling now and you felt your release burning in the small of your back, like a coil waiting to spring. You pressed your tongue against his clit and slid in another finger and he went absolutely mad.

“Yes, darling, right there, right there—right _there_ , oh f- _fuck_ I’m so close, I’m _so close_ , I’m so c—”

When he cut off with an autotuned screech and when your mouth filled with a sticky, strawberry filled substance, you knew he had reached climax, and you soon followed him, your own fingers pumping quickly in and out of you as you moaned your release into one of his thighs, his pink cum staining your mouth.


	9. this concealer can't hide all my pink nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3ccccc  
> sorry this took so long and is so short iv'e jsut been under. a huge amount of stress lately and something weird happened today that did Not Help  
> also i changed my url on tumblr! follow me at mettagod.tumblr.com

Mettaton slouched against the cushions, completely boneless as he came down from his release, and your face was buried against his thigh, breaths coming out in ragged bursts as you recovered from your own high. The sweet tang of strawberries filled your mouth and throat, pink smeared across your lips and over Mettaton’s thighs. You saw Mettaton’s hand move shakily to the switch at his hip, flicking it, and you felt the plates on his crotch move back to where they originally were.

The two of you sat there in silence, the only sounds in the room being Mettaton’s internal cooling system and your breathing. And yet, even though he didn’t _need_ to breathe, you heard Mettaton breathing in and out over the whirring of his internal fans. In fact, his breathing was in sync with yours, and you found yourself smiling the synthetic flesh of his thigh. You allowed yourself to peek up at him through your lashes.

He looked completely blissed out, his usually perfectly-styled hair mussed up, the unfinished side of his face showing in its entirety. His iris had returned to a soft carnation pink color, and his pupil was in the shape of a small heart. And you noticed he was looking at you with such a fond expression that made your heartbeat kick into overdrive. He gave you a warm smile as he lifted a hand and brushed some hair out of your face.

In the silence you both shared you could feel so many words that needed to be spoken yet the two of you were afraid to let them pass your lips. You found yourself leaning into his touch, sighing.

“Not gonna die on me this time?” You kept your voice quiet yet it sounded like the loudest thing in the world.

Mettaton’s response was a throaty, metallic chuckle. “I told you seeing you makes me feel recharged, love.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and lightly slapping his chassis. “You’re such a nerd.”

Mettaton seemed to take a second to make a retort, as if he was calculating your response to it, whether he should even make it out not. “But…I’m _your_ nerd, right?”

The silence returned and it wasn’t as welcoming as the first; it was filled with too many questions and too little answers. The two of you pursed your lips at the same time, and you refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing on keeping an eye on his glowing soul.

“Hey,” you murmured softly, lightly tracing the shape of his heart over the glass panel separating it from the open world. “I’m just going to go ahead and address the giant fucking elephant in the room, but…what exactly…are we?”

Neither of you spoke as both of your minds contemplated the answers. Mettaton’s finger traced designs all along the curve of your spine and he was glancing up at the ceiling.

“What do you want us to be, darling?” he finally replied, his voice almost a whisper.

You pursed your lips, scaling up his body so you were straddling him, leaning over him to stare into his eyes. Curious, you leaned down and pressed an experimental kiss to the blemished side of his face, and you heard his internal cooling system kick into high gear. You snickered.

“Well,” you said slowly, kissing his nose. “I kind of like you. A lot. And I assume you like me as well?”

“Of _course_ I do, sweetheart,” he replied, sounding almost offended that you thought anything different. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t have let you absolutely destroy me with that tongue of yours.”

The robot giggled when you blushed, tugging you down for another kiss. You sighed dreamily against his mouth before pulling away to pop the question. “So you wanna be my robo-boyfriend or what?”

“Of course,” Mettaton repeated, flashing you a grin before his noodle arms wound around you and pulled you down. His fingers brushed against your sides and you choked out a laugh, slapping his chassis as he peppered little kisses all over your face and neck. “Oh, I didn’t know you were ticklish, darling!”

“Mettaton, stop!” you squawked as his fingers danced rhythmically over your rips. You squealed and tried to pry yourself out of his grip but his stupid robotic noodle arms were stronger than you thought. Mettaton laughed, and the sound of his laugh made you laugh too, until you collapsed on top of him and the two of you were having a giggling fit. Even though in the short time you had known each other and the fact that you two literally got together, you felt as if you were finally in the right place, with the right person, and everything was going to be _okay_.

“Beautiful,” Mettaton said once you both came down from your laughing fits. He wiped a metaphorical tear away from his eye. “Do you mind if I…show you something?”

Noticing his shift in tone, you sat up, brushing strands of hair away from his face. “Sure, what is it?”

“It’s something that I…don’t normally disclose to anyone. But, I trust you…a lot.” The robot smiled sheepishly, standing up from the couch and offering you one of his hands. You took it and he gingerly lifted you from the couch. “The venue should be dead now, so—do you want to come on a little adventure with me, love?”

 

Mettaton’s adventure led you both away from the venue, from the MTT Resort, and from the overheated clutches of Hotland—all the way to the cool, calming atmosphere of Waterfall. You were a bit excited; a lot of it was about finally getting out of the oppressing heat, and the fact that you adored Waterfall. You thought it was beautiful and calming, the distant sound of water flowing and the shimmering crystals creating an ambience of tranquility.

“Where are we going, Metta?” you asked quietly, eyes running over the colorful gems sprinkled along the ceiling.

“Patience, sweetheart,” the robot murmured in reply. He wasn’t looking at you. You noticed a glint of trepidation in his eye, a nervous energy that flowed off of him in waves. You wanted to console him, but you had no idea how to go about that. You didn’t even know what he was so worried about.

Eventually, the two of you reached what you assumed to be the destination—two houses, almost identical, standing next to each other. One of them was a pale white and the other was a pale pink. Confusion colored your features, and Mettaton must have noticed.

“This is where I used to live.” He nodded towards the pink home on the right. “Before I…became the star of the Underground.” He pointed to the house next to it. “This is where my cousin, Blooky, lives.”

Mystified, you watched as Mettaton approached the pink house, and as he stepped past you, you heard his internal cooling system kick on. He pulled something out of what seemed to be nowhere, and you noticed it was a key. He hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding the key into the door and unlocking it. He sighed, and it was tinged with sadness.

Despite his demeanor, he turned to you and gave you a small grin. “Come in, honey. Make yourself at home.”

You hesitated a moment before following the robot into his home. When you did, you were immediately blinded by how pink it was inside, as if you had been expecting anything different. Like Mettaton had said, this was his house. It would be a crime if the color scheme wasn’t _inundated_ with pink.

“This house is so _you_ ,” you commented, taking a seat on the bed in the room. You briefly wondered why he even had beds in his houses. He didn’t even need sleep.

Mettaton laughed softly, standing in the middle of the room, wringing his hands together. He looked like he had no idea what to do, even though it was his idea to bring you here.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, and you saw him freeze up at the inquiry.

“O-Of c-course, darling! I—” He cut off midsentence, and obviously fake smile he had plastered on his face dropped into a somber scowl. “—oh, to hell with it.”

You were about to ask him what he meant, but he continued on, cutting you off. “Darling…I’m about to tell you something very personal about myself…and I need you to promise me you won’t judge me too harshly for it.”

His voice had dropped down to barely that of a metallic whisper, and he didn’t make eye contact with you. Concerned, you stood from the bed and strode over to the other, reaching up to place your hands on his shoulders. It took a while before he shyly looked up at you, his irises a muted pink.

“Listen, Mettaton,” you said slowly, enunciating every word as clearly as you could. “You’re starting to freak me out. Just tell me what’s up, please? I promise I won't judge you, unless you like, killed someone. That’s where I draw the line. But I don’t think that’s it.” You paused. “Is it?”

“No, no, of course not! I just…” He trailed off once again, and his voice cracked. He mumbled something under his breath. “I’ll just let the diaries do the talking.”

“Huh?”

“Sit back down and I’ll show you,” Mettaton said, and you obeyed dubiously. You observed as the robot started to pick up a few red books scattered along the floor. Your brow furrowed as Mettaton sat next to you, pushing one of the six red books into your arms. “Read these and I’ll explain the rest, sweetheart.”

You blinked in confusion at the red book in your hand, then sighed, figuring what the hell. It was obviously important to Mettaton. You cracked open the book to the first page to see cutesy, swirly handwriting in pink glitter pen.

_Dear Diary,_

_Shyren’s sister “fell down” recently. It’s sad. Without her sister to speak for her, she’s become more reclusive than ever. So I reached out to her and told her that she, Blooky, and I should all perform together sometime._

_She seemed to like that idea._

You turned the page, expecting more, but Mettaton beat you to the punch, swiping out the book in your hand for another. You stared at him in confusion, and he just pursed his lips at you.

You turned to the first page.

_Dearer Diary,_

_I like to buy a new diary for every entry I make._

_I love to collect diaries._

“Really, Mettaton?” you said, and the robot just shrugged, handing you another diary.

_Dearest Diary,_

_Our cousin left the farm to become a training dummy. That leaves just Blooky and I._

_Blooky asked if I was going to leave and try to become corporeal, too. They sounded so…resigned._

_Come on, Blooky. You know I’d never leave you._

_And besides…I’d never find the kind of body I’m looking for, anyway._

Another entry.

_My Darling Diary,_

_I met someone…interesting today._

_Last week I posted that advertisement for my Human Fanclub. Today was our first meeting. Only one other person showed up. Honestly, she’s a dork, and she watches these awful cartoons, but she’s kind of funny, too…_

_I want to see her again._

Another entry.

_Diary, my dear…_

_My diary collection is growing fabulously. I have, like, five now!_

Mettaton hesitated before handing you the last diary. You could feel fear radiating off of him and you didn’t know what to tell him to make him feel better.

_Dear Diary,_

_She surprised me with something today. Sketches of a body she wants to create for me…a form beyond my wildest fantasies. In a form like that, I could finally feel like…“myself.” After all, there’s no way I can be a star the way I am now._

_Sorry, Blooky. My dreams can’t wait for anyone._

You stared at the bubbly, pink handwriting on the page for a minute, letting all that you red sink in. Mettaton was eerily quiet next to you, the only sounds he was making being his internal cooling system. Slowly, you sat the diary down, clearing your throat.

“So now you know.” The robot’s voice was almost mute and extremely reserved. He swallowed even though he had no need to. “Now you know that…I’m just a shell. A metal shell for a selfish little ghost to hide in.”

“That’s not true,” you murmured, gently placing your hand on top of his. He flinched slightly, but relaxed under your touch. “I’m sorry. I’m not—really good at comforting people. But you’re more than just what you think.” You gingerly laid your hand across his heart container, feeling its warm glow on your palm.

“But I…” Mettaton’s voice cracked and he sounded like he was going to cry. As if he could cry. “I abandoned my cousin when I promised them I wouldn’t…and I treated Alphys so badly, the one who gave me this body—”

“ _Hey._ ” Your voice was firm and Mettaton’s head snapped up to meet your eyes. “That’s all in the past now, you know? You and Alphys are closer than ever and you’re in a band with Napstablook. What’s done is done. You may have messed up in the past, but you recognized you made mistakes and made sure to fix them.” You framed his face with your hands, giving him a small smile. “And that takes real bravery, Mettaton, to admit that you messed up.”

The expression on Mettaton’s face was like he was seeing an angel descending from the heavens. He was staring at you with such reverence and affection that it sent a shock of determination through your system.

“Thank you for telling me all of this, Mettaton. It was really brave of you.” A sad smile spread across your lips, and you let out a weak chuckle. “And…I guess I should be brave, too. So…when we go to the surface...I’ll tell you about my past, too. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”


	10. doll eyes stare into valium-colored skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there are mentions of past bullying (abuse?), suicidal thoughts/ideation, and self harm in this chapter

A good amount of time had passed after you and Mettaton had sealed the deal on your relationship and he had spilled to you the secrets about his ghostly past. Soon after that he even felt comfortable enough to show you his true form: an adorable pink ghost with the same sweep of hair that sheathed his right eye. You had reached out to caress him, but you phased right through his body. The ghost sighed, and slowly faded out of existence, and you saw lights flicker back on in Mettaton’s eyes.

“Sorry,” you had murmured. “I should have known I couldn’t have touched you.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart.” Mettaton gave you a melancholy smile, reaching his hand over to cover yours. “I…felt you. You’re really warm.”

The two of you had spent the rest of the night cuddled together on your bed in your room, watching Netflix on your laptop. Few words had been exchanged, and it was fine.

A public announcement of your relationship had been made, and you had been expecting oodles of hate mail and death threats to clog your inbox, but surprisingly, there wasn’t any. Well, there had been a _few_ , but they hadn’t been exactly…hateful. They all practically said the same thing: _Treat Mettaton right. Don’t hurt him._

Like you had the heart to do that.

The others were more on the congratulatory side, and you were shocked. You assumed some of Mettaton’s more unhinged fans had started planning your destruction the moment that Mettaton had announced he was dating you.

You had expressed your concerns to the robot one day and he merely responded, with a twinkle in his crimson-colored eye, “Darling, of course they would be happy for you. All of my adoring fans love anything that makes me happy. Those who don’t have a tendency to…” A dark, purring chuckle had made his shoulders shake. “… _disappear_.”

His answer had sent shivers down your spine.

Your friends had been extremely happy for you as well, even Papyrus, who had recently just gotten over his jealously of you working for Mettaton. He had made you more congratulatory lasagna, offering it to you with tears in his eyes. Sans had been ruthless with his idiotic robot puns. Undyne had lightly punched your shoulder (you said lightly, yet you could still feel a bruise forming) and told you that she “might start liking that stupid sparkly bucket of bolts if you do.” Alphys had looked like she was at a loss for words. Frisk had given you a thumbs up and a grin. Toriel gave you a piece of butterscotch cinnamon pie.

Everything was finally going right with your life. You finally felt like you were at home, in a place where you belonged, surrounded by people who loved and cared about you.

Except right now. Because right now you weren’t in the Underground.

You were on the surface, the place you had retreated to the Underground to avoid, in the exact city that you never wanted to set foot in again.

When Mettaton had told you the city where you would be going you had almost flat-out told him you couldn’t go, but you knew it would have shattered his soul into a million pieces. He was excited to journey to the surface, especially with you, but Jesus Christ—why did it have to be in your home town? The city you grew up in, the city where so many awful memories lay embedded in the concrete sidewalks and the asphalt of the roads?

It even made it harder for you to conveniently forget the promise you made to tell him more about yourself, about your past. You wondered why you always got dealt the shitty cards in life.

Well, Mettaton had been a busy bee since you had ascended from the Underground, with interviews, press conferences, fan meetings, and his band’s tour of the surface was going to be beginning soon, so there’s that. You hadn’t had a lot of quality time with the robot, the only time you saw him was when you were doing his makeup before an interview and watching the interview itself. You tried not to be too upset, since it was his job, but you craved more of his presence, besides through the screen of a television.

Today, Mettaton surprised you by bursting through the door leading to the luxurious suite you both shared, housed in a luxury hotel you never thought you’d ever be able to enter. It was still early in the morning, and sleep still clung to your bones and grogginess clouded your eyes, so the door slamming shut jolted you to your senses.

“Good morning, honeybunch!” Mettaton sang as he sashayed to where you were perched on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, trying your best not to fall back asleep. “I have breakfast for you.”

At the sound of that, you perked up, and you saw Mettaton was holding a tray in his hands. A large waffle was centered in the tray, drenched in syrup and topped with fresh fruit and a dollop of whipped cream. Your stomach did most of your thinking for you as you snatched the tray from his hands and began to eat, and Mettaton snickered.

“Don’t laugh at me, robo-boy,” you mumbled, popping a raspberry into your mouth. Mettaton rolled his eyes, leaning over to seize a strawberry off your plate. “Hey! You don’t even have to eat.”

“So?” Mettaton retorted, wrapping his lips around the tip of the strawberry. He wasn’t trying to make it suggestive, but it was Mettaton, so of _course_ it was suggestive. “I don’t _have_ to date the cutest person in the world, but I do because I _want_ to.”

You spluttered, face growing incredibly warm. Mettaton flashed you a shit-eating grin, finishing off the strawberry dropping the stem onto the tray. You pouted at him, shoving a piece of waffle into your mouth before mumbling, “I thought you were going to be busy today.”

“I was, but then I realized that through all of this excitement that I haven’t had any time reserved to spend with you,” he explained, giving you a catlike smile. “After all, you are my top priority, among other things.”

“B-But what about your fans?” You could only imagine what messages could be flooding your inbox at this time.

“Oh, honey, why are you always worried about my fans? They’re perfectly fine with it and they completely understand.” He pouted at you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed. “It’s just that some celebrities’ fans here on the surface can be a little…unhinged, sometimes.” You finished off your breakfast and sat the tray on the coffee table, leaning over to cuddle against Mettaton, pressing a kiss to his jaw. His internal cooling system started whirring. “So what did you have planned today, Metta?”

“Well…” he started, but then he trailed off, not meeting your eyes. Brow furrowed, you sat up and stared at him.

“What is it?”

“Well,” he repeated. “I…vaguely remember hearing you say you were going to tell me all about your life on the surface—and with us being in your hometown…I figured—” He paused and watched the color drain from your face and stammered, “—b-but if you’re not feeling up to it right now, darling, I perfectly understand! Just take as much time as you need, I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with…”

A heavy silence followed Mettaton’s words and you felt like you were suffocating. Your eyes fell to the ground and your hands were balled into fists, the skin over your knuckles drawn taut. Two parts of you were having an internal conflict and you were stuck in the middle of it. Half of you wanted to keep Mettaton in the dark about your life on the surface but the other part, the more logical part, wanted to let Mettaton know.

After all, it was only fair. Mettaton had revealed an incredibly personal part of his life to you. You should at least return the favor.

A burst of determination fluttered in your chest. You stood up and Mettaton watched as you turned to him, extending your hand. Your voice was soft when you spoke.

“Want to come on a little adventure with me?”

 

Mettaton had procured a car on the surface: a hot pink Mini Cooper convertible, and when you had slid into the driver’s seat he had stared at you in confusion.

“Don’t worry, I have my license,” you assured him as he folded himself into the passenger’s seat. His legs were too long so he had to scoot the seat back, vice versa for you, since it was his car. “You don’t know how to get to where we’re going, anyway.”

“You could just tell me directions, sweetheart,” he murmured, starting to fiddle with the radio as you shoved the key into the ignition and the engine purred to life.

“You know I’m bad at explaining shit like that,” you said as you began to drive through the car garage the hotel offered. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

 

Your destination was just on the outskirts of the city, a part of town that had been all but abandoned for the glitz and glamour the middle of the town had to offer. The buildings and population dwindled steadily as you drove, and memories were starting to unearth themselves in your mind.

None of them were fond.

“Sweetheart, where are we going?” Mettaton’s voice was quiet, tone vexed.

You took your eyes off the road for a split second to give the robot a wink. Not that it mattered; there wasn’t anyone here to run over to hurt. “Patience, young Padawan. You’ll see in due time.”

Mettaton narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you. He didn’t say anything though; he just leaned back in his seat and began to hum a melody, which you recognized to be Death by Glamour.

You destination was practically seconds away and anxiety gnawed at your insides. You kept your tight grip on the wheel and ignored your surroundings, just focusing on the road. The asphalt was ancient and cracked. What little homes and buildings there were, were dilapidated and abandoned. Tall grass sprouted through the cracked asphalt and concrete, bushes and trees grew wildly, completely unkempt as humanity had left this place so long ago.

And there was your destination; tucked away and left to rot, uninhabited for god knows how long ever since you left it. You pulled in front of the building and turned off the car, slumping against the seat as if a huge weight had been placed on your shoulders.

Mettaton said you name quietly. “What…is this place?”

Your eyes stared blankly at the sign limply hanging on the face of the building. The words and letters had been haphazardly scratched off, but the word _ORPHANAGE_ still read clearly.

“My childhood home,” you answered simply, unlatching your seatbelt. A burst of air slapped you in the face when you emerged from the car, and you drank it all in. Oddly, you felt calm.

“I don’t…understand.” Mettaton cautiously approached you, as if you were a bomb ready to explode at any moment.

You kept your gaze on the building. “Remember what I said, back then, that people in my family rarely keep up with each other?” Mettaton hesitated before nodding. You jerked your head towards the orphanage. “This is why. I don’t have a family. Or, I do…but I don’t know them.”

Silence hung between you two, only filled with the sounds of the wind whistling through the leaves of the trees and the unkempt grass fringing the abandoned orphanage. The front door hung open on its ancient hinges, and it looked like it was about to collapse on the ground.

“So you were an orphan?” Mettaton kept his voice soft.

“Yep,” you answered simply. You surprised yourself by how calm and collected you are. You had a feeling if Mettaton wasn’t there you’d be on your knees having an anxiety meltdown. “Was left on the front door the day I was born. Parents didn’t have enough to take care of me.” You pursed your lips, scrutinizing the building. “You wanna go inside and walk around?”

“Are you sure that’s okay?” But you were already closing the distance between you and the building, and you felt the weight on your shoulders grow heavier. Maybe the anxiety meltdown was going to happen, after all.

The building was trashed, some windows broken, bedframes scattered in the hallways, chairs and tables tossed every which-way. An old, musky scent laced with the smell of mold stung your nostrils and you coughed, clearing your throat. You heard Mettaton’s heels clicking on the old wooden floors, and you put your focus on that sound to keep you from completely dissociating to avoid having to deal with this whole scenario.

“Darling…you used to _live_ here?” Mettaton’s voice was filled with disgust. “This is no place for a child to live!”

“It didn’t look like this when I lived here, Metta,” you explained, drawing scribbles in the dust that rested on one of the tables. You were in the main foyer. The bedrooms were off in one of the hallways connected to the main room. “When the city began to develop another orphanage was built and this one was left to rot. Thankfully I was already on my own when that happened.”

“Please don’t tell me you were homeless, darling.”

“Of course not!” you assured him, giving him a small smile. “After I left here I managed to find a cheap little apartment to live in before I moved to the Underground.” You turned your attention to the hallway where the bedrooms lay. “I wonder if I can find where I used to sleep.”

You sauntered into the hallway and your anxiety was really starting to eat away at you. Your hands were balled into shaky fists at your sides and you felt the contents of this morning’s breakfast threatening to rise to your throat. Mettaton took notice of this and gingerly rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to show me anymore, that’s fine.”

“No, I’m okay,” you replied immediately. “I…I need to do this. I need to stop running away from this. Uh,” the two of you halted in front of a door thrown ajar, a door all too familiar to you. “This is where I used to sleep.”

Obviously the room wasn’t decorated like it used to be. When it had been your art was hanging from the walls, but now the walls were peeling and bare. You stepped into the middle of the room and tried to calm the ringing in your ears.

“I…didn’t really have many friends here.” Mettaton leaned against the doorframe, watching you curiously. Your back was to him. “None, actually. A lot of the kids…well, they thought I was weird, ’cause I did art and all that.” Your eyes found interest in the peeling wallpaper. You recalled when they first plastered it on the walls. “I remember one time I had done a drawing I was really proud of. I wanted to show it off, but some boy said it was bad and took it and ripped it up. Right in front of my eyes.”

“That’s horrible,” Mettaton whispered.

“Yeah.” You shrugged, nonchalant. “It was worse in school. Teachers got onto me a lot because I never paid attention in class, I was always doodling while they were teaching. Not really my fault that they were shit at keeping my attention.” Mettaton laughed softly.

“I was extremely isolated. As I got older I became depressed. Despondent. All through high school a thought constantly invaded my mind and would never leave: I wasn’t needed. If my parents didn’t want me, if no one at the orphanage wanted me, if no one wanted to adopt me, then I wasn’t _needed_.” Your voice started to waver and you felt yourself fading in and out. “The world would have been better off if I never existed. I would have been better off dead.” You cleared your throat. “So I started to hurt myself a lot. Sometimes I’d go without eating for a few days. I’d punch myself a few times on my thighs until they were bruised. I cut myself. I even tried to…”

The sound of Mettaton gasping made you cut off, and you whipped around to see him covering up his mouth, his brow furrowed. You narrowed your eyes when you noticed a stream of black pouring from his eye. Was he…crying?

“Mettaton?”

“Darling, I…I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. A child should never have to deal with that.” Red flared in his darkened eyes. “If I knew all who had hurt you, I’d—I’d—” His upper lip curled into a scowl.

“It’s in the past now, honey,” you said quickly, approaching him and wiping the oil-tears off his face, not caring when they stained your skin. “Can’t really do anything about it now.”

“But I just can’t _s-stand_ the thought of you getting hurt,” Mettaton stammered, voice glitching. Crimson bloomed in his pupil. “And I hate that you had those awful thoughts, that you don’t belong, that you didn’t deserve to live. Because you _do_. You deserve so, so much, darling.” He enveloped his hands over yours, warmth seeping into your skin. “I can see why you escaped to the Underground to leave this place. And I’m so proud that you decided to face your demons and talk to me about your life here. Thank you.”

You didn’t know you were crying until tears plopped onto Mettaton’s hands. You gave him a shaky smile before he wrapped you in a tight embrace. You nuzzled into his neck and through your tears you started to laugh softly. Bemused, Mettaton pulled back and gave you a quizzical look, kissing away your tears.

“At least now I have a group of friends I can fall back on when things get bad,” you croaked, sniffling. “At least…I have you.”

“I promise you, honey, you’ll always have me, as long as you want.” Mettaton nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips. He pulled you tightly against him, and your foreheads pressed together.

You grinned, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Thank you, Mettaton. I…I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now let’s get the hell out of this creepy building, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp. this is the end!
> 
> i'm so sorry if this chapter seems choppy, i've been very busy with college but i'm on spring break now, which will give me an opportunity to start ANOTHER fic, so i wanted to get this one done.
> 
> thank yall so, SO MUCH for reading, giving kudos, bookmarking, and commenting. i didn't think this fic would get the views it has! i hope the next fic i'm planning gets just as popular.
> 
> so yeah, thanks so much!!! i'll see yall in my next fic. feel free to follow me on tumblr (mettagod) or twitter (@korosenseis) <3


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